


Spring

by SalamanderInk



Series: Seasons [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (That would be Tony's ass), (but not for long hehe), Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Religious, Anal Beads, Bondage, Bottom Tony, Building Self-Esteem through sex, Edgeplay, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluffy Edging, Light Dom/sub, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Magical Bondage, Masturbation, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Predicament Bondage, Tony Doesn't Know When To Stop, Tony if you keep challenging Loki he will take you up on it, Top Loki (Marvel), Virgin Tony, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Worship AU, actual god loki, bratty sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18682894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalamanderInk/pseuds/SalamanderInk
Summary: Tony has been waiting for his God for years. He’s travelled the world on his own and came back, he’d made his pledge and offered himself and yethe was still waiting.Perhaps, since his God kept refusing to come back to him, it was time to take things into his own hands.Or : Tony is being a brat and gets more than he  bargained for. And then asks for more.And because Loki is a benevolent God who can never refuse his Beloved anything, he gets it too.





	Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfloner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/gifts), [dendrite_blues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues/gifts).



> I want to thank my amazing Cheereaders and beta readers [Wolfloner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) and [Dentrite Blues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues/pseuds/dendrite_blues), because I really couldn't have done without them. They are awesome friends, and awesome writers (and artists in Den's case!) so please go check out their work!  
> This was supposed to be a short pwp that I could write and post during the Frostiron Discord Sprint week, I don't know what happened ( _words_ happened, is what) but here it is. This monster is _still_ a pwp, no matter what the wordcount might tell you. Though it did grow a backstory, so.

**SPRING**

* * *

 

As he walked, flowers grew from his footprints. As he smiled, the sun shone down from the heavens. As he sang, birdsongs answered his call. 

He was a Beloved One. A blessing from the gods, they called him. 

And yet, he was not happy. Not truly. 

He pretended very well, and none were aware of his melancholy, for he knew they would jeer and shake their heads at him. 

His bare feet curled into the damp grass, his soft robe brushing against his calves as he looked up to the mountains. 

Beloved of the Gods, they called him. 

If only they knew. 

It was true in a way, and yet it meant so much more than they could ever imagine. 

He’d known since he was able to understand, perhaps even before that. 

He was not only a God’s Beloved, he was His Chosen. 

And there lay the difference. A Beloved is… loved. A Chosen… must love back. 

And so here he was, _yearning_ for a God he had never even touched, _loving_ and yet… 

Well, that _was_ a nasty trick to pull. 

Tony could not stop the pout on his lips. He felt like a scorned lover and a teenager with a crush at the same time. It was, in his very professional opinion, definitely _unfair_. 

He had not even _seen_ his God! It was completely illogical for him to feel that way about someone that had never even been physically present with him! 

Someone who had left him.

And yet his life felt empty without Him. 

His God had been with him in spirit all his youth, bending the laws of His kind in order to reveal Himself ahead of time. 

And he just _missed_ him. 

In a show of good faith, He had offered the key to His soul as His bond, marking Tony as more than a simple Beloved, but rather as His Future Chosen Companion. 

It had been _years._

And while a god could have many Beloveds through their lives, they could only ever have one single Chosen.

So why Choose him _then,_ only to leave him alone _now?_

All his life, He had been keeping hardships from his path, comforting him, soothing his hurts. 

His fingers brushed the jade bracelet around his wrist, the nine large round beads representing each Virtue he was supposed to live by. 

To please his God. 

They had spoken together at length, and He had advised him, taught him, praised him. He had been his closest, truest, most precious friend. 

...And then He had left. 

Was he not pleasing enough? Did he not respect his vows, or live according to the Sacred Ways? 

Though perhaps if dutifulness was not _pleasing_ , mayhaps rule breaking would do the trick? 

...He’d stopped answering, stopped coming, stopped hugging him in His magic… 

With one last prayer against smooth stone, and an entreaty to just _watch,_ he put into action the plan he had started to put together months ago. 

Laying down on the ground, he looked up to the sky as he spread himself on grass heavy with dew, the dampness seeping into the soft cloth and making it stick to his skin, tantalizingly see through. 

If his God was happy just watching him, let Him have an actual performance to look at. 

...He’d stopped interacting with him at all.

And Tony was tired of yearning. 

He was grown, just shy of twenty summers, he had passed the rites into adulthood many seasons ago, he had traveled, and made the conscious and informed decision of coming back to stay in the Orders, coming back in service to his God. 

All without his God’s input. 

He knew his God must still care, at least enough not to destroy their nascent bond before the ceremony where he formally accepted his side of it.

He had performed the ceremony to offer Him his True Name as a show of acceptance of His suit and as a binding proof of his commitment. 

(Tony hoped He still cared.)

There was no reason for his God not to have come to meet him already. He knew his own mind, he knew his God’s, and he wanted… 

He _wanted_. 

He wanted to be seen and to see in turn, to be touched, and to touch. To speak, to laugh and caress and find joy with his God. 

Either that or to be rid of this phantom limb, this love for a man that would not let himself be loved. 

There were few Chosen, Tony knew. Far fewer than Beloveds, certainly. 

In fact no one even knew they existed. His own knowledge came from his God and the scarce hints in the few texts he’d managed to scavenge, but they’d only confirmed what he’d already determined. It was something that he’d just had to figure out on his own. 

Tony rolled onto his belly, showing off the curve of his spine and his ass, the white fabric pulled taut under him, and drenching the other half of the traditional white shift that was worn by every Beloved. 

Though, by now, the pristine white was probably rather greened by the crushed grass under him. It would be hellish to get _those_ stains out. 

He had never been a stickler for rules. And he knew that his God was not either. 

Which was why he wasn’t worried to try what he was about to do. 

After all, if waiting patiently did not work, then maybe enticing Him would. 

Impishly drawing his knees under his chest in a pose that was traditionally associated with worship, he committed his first blasphemy. 

Pulling his arms under his body, running his hands down his chest, and shuddering with the perfect mixture of adrenaline and pleasure, he brought one hand to his dick and started stroking. 

After all, as a Beloved, his pleasure belonged to his God. And while Tony was offering it for His viewing pleasure, he was also partaking in his own. 

Surely that would incite a reaction? Surely He would not keep ignoring him? 

The morning air was cold and the breeze stuck to his wet body, freezing his skin and half making him regret his foolhardiness, but his hand felt warm as he explored his cock for the first time in a sexual way, feeling it twitch and react to his strokes, the pleasure sparking to his nerves. 

Under his hand, he felt the limb harden, and somehow _grow,_ and yet the pleasure felt too alluring to question it. 

Warmth spread from the point of contact, pooling in his belly and pumping through his heart. The blood pulsed in his ears as he clenched his eyes shut with a gasp. 

His breath hitched then came out in shallow pants as he tried to catch up with the feelings flooding his body. 

The jade beads on his wrist were a smooth and cold counterpoint to the warm, giving flesh of his palm as they rolled against his belly, a thrill of not quite forbidden and a reminder of who he was doing this for. 

So he kept stroking, overwhelmed and dizzy, squirming on the grass, staining wet fabric and damp skin green, feeling his hips start moving on their own, back and forth, pumping right into his hand. His other hand clenched into the grass, pulling out clumps of dirt and roots as a particularly inspired twist of his thumb under the head made him mewl and arch up. 

Tony came back down, panting and twitching, his thighs clenched and his ass sticking up in the air as his chest rubbed on the ground. The drag against sensitive nipples made him shiver again and his dick twitched in his still hand. 

He was trying to catch his breath. He wanted to tease, not to come, however much he wanted to reach the fabled high that he spied the farmboys speaking about. 

How ironic that no one would ever talk to a Beloved about sex. It should have seemed like an important part of their education, considering that most of them did end up fulfilling their Gods’ needs and desires. 

However Tony wasn’t the sort to wait patiently for people to get their stick out their asses and give him the necessary information, if he needed something, he went to find it himself. 

And if it required “unseemly” spying, so be it. He simply made sure not to get caught. 

He did not think his God would be one to disapprove. 

He had not gone against the Virtues, after all. 

At least, no more than he usually did. 

Though, whether or not that would extend to what he planned to do next…

Letting go of his still hard dick, he went on to brush his fingers over his balls, taking them in hand, squeezing a little just to see… 

With a gasp, Tony jerked forward, the unconscious movement rubbing his cock and chest against the ground, making him flinch to the side and unbalance. His knees slipped against the crushed grass spreading wide and making him collapse to the ground. 

He took a minute to catch his breath, the cold getting to him, making him shiver against the early morning air. 

The ground under him had been warmed by his body heat but not enough to be comfortable, much less against his cock as it throbbed with arousal, so he used his other forearm to roll back over onto his back. 

His dick was proudly erect, and definitely _not_ looking like it usually did. 

Morning woods had _not_ prepared him for that. 

Shifting with embarrassment made it rub against the prayer beads on his wrist and reminded him acutely of his purpose there. 

Feeling the heavy weight of his scrotum inside his palm, he fondled it softly, curiously exploring its weight and the way firmer balls moved inside the squishier sac, pressing them together and shuddering from the feeling. 

He stroked the skin, the place where it pulled taut against the underside of his dick, the place where it felt slightly wrinkled, then the underside, trying to find the spot the stable hands had been speaking of. 

Pressing down on the smooth skin right below the balls made him cry out as pleasure sparked bright through his veins, and Tony curled himself up, a breathless gasp escaping his lips. His feet fell back to the ground as all his breath left him. His hand stilled as he desperately gasped for air, unable to calm down and fill his lungs after the rush. 

His knees stained green with grass and dirt, bent and opened, leaving his groin on display as his wet robe was bunched up and stuck on his chest, face flushed and sweaty, his cock erect, he felt the very picture of debauchery. 

And yet his God still wasn’t coming. 

His cock throbbed and pulsed between his legs. It was protesting his lack of stimulation, but Tony didn’t intend to give it anymore attention. The smooth stones against his wrist were still pressing on it, pushed back up his forearm  while his hand traveled down his perineum, brushing softly up and down as he rotated his wrist. 

He could feel his pulse beat against it, his aroused cock right against the sacred artifact that let him call upon his God. 

It made a thrill run through his spine and his cock jerked against his arm, pearly fluid spurting out and rolling down his cock. More juice kept coming, coating the beads, and Tony groaned at the sight. An offering to his God, his arousal, precome and sweat, against the morning dew and crushed grass. 

There was power in those things . Liquids of life, the root of magic. 

Tony bit his lips, brushing the soft skin of his perineum back and forth, a soft counterpoint to his wrist rubbing wetly against his oversensitive cock. He breathed out, jerking as his short nail scratched the sensitive skin. It felt like a very very sweet torment. 

Almost on his own volition, his other hand caressed his skin, brushing along his ribs through the sticky cloth, rubbing hard on nipples that had already been teased by the rough dirt, arching his back, trying to get _more._ Between his legs, a single finger was circling his rim, making him shudder again with a gasp. This felt more like a long slow tease than the burning intensity of earlier. Almost comfortable. 

Squirming a little, Tony settled into the sensation, appreciating the way his fingers caught on the ring of muscle, as the tight pucker didn’t even let the tip of a single finger through. 

He couldn’t believe that the farmboys had said they could fit an entire cock in there. Would his God want that? Want to take him that way? 

His God’s cock spearing him open, forcing his tight pucker open wide as he felt Him over him, inside him, all around him, finally being taken the way a Beloved should be taken by their God?

Determined and aroused by the thought, Tony turned himself back to his belly, knees spread under his chest, as he bowed his back forward to have more room for his fingers. He wanted to put them in, damnit! 

He held himself up on one arm, the other pushed down to his groin, bending his wrist up behind his balls. His cock was bobbing slightly between his legs, slapping against his forearm as he squirmed around, attempting in vain to get enough room to stretch himself.

At this rate, his hand would cramp before he got anywhere. The boys had made it sound so easy, but really it was anything but!

Tony’s brow wrinkled in frustration, trying and failing to get in a comfortable position. He didn’t want to fail! 

He knew there wasn’t any reason to put such pressure on himself, but he had a _plan_ , and at the moment, he felt like he was falling apart. 

“Ssshh” A warm hand settled between his shoulder blades, pressing him down, anchoring him. 

He _knew_ that hand. He knew that _voice._ He’d never felt them so vividly before, so _real,_ but he knew them as intimately as he knew his own skin. 

Tony’s breath hitched in relief. 

_His God was here. All would be well._

“You did well, darling. That was an enticing display, I will admit. You have certainly been quite naughty, haven’t you?” 

The hand came up, stroking soothingly through his hair as Tony finally stopped his racing thoughts, the anxiety that he hadn’t noticed choking him finally dissipated as though it had never taken ahold of him. 

He breathed in and melted under his God’s hands. 

A thrill of success rang in the back of his mind, buried under the sheer relaxation brought by the feeling of Him being there, touching him, taking care of him. 

His mere presence was enough for his mind to settle, for his breath to even out and a feeling of safety to seep through him. 

He felt like his mind was floating away, his being condensed on the single point of contact of those long fingers scratching his scalp. 

Everything was so peaceful. 

Through the haze, he felt the warmth of a body crouching over him and a breath brushing against his ear with a dark chuckle. 

“Now, I suppose I need to do something about that, shouldn’t I?” 

Tony made a vaguely questioning sound, too dazed to pay attention to the meaning behind the words. 

Basking in the attention of the Deity that had Chosen him felt like the first touch of sun after being shut inside too long. The warmth was seeping right down to his bones, running through his spine and pooling in his belly. 

Another dark chuckle caressed his ear before a sharp sting from his scalp made him groan as He pulled his head up. He couldn’t quite manage to focus his eyes on the face before him, getting only the faint impression of green green _green_ eyes and sharp cheekbones. 

Another tug on his hair made him close his eyes as he reveled in the sheer physicality of it all. No more ghostly caresses upon waking from fever dreams, no more echoes and whispers in his own thoughts following prayers, or delirious visions from the drugs he’d smuggled in from the city. 

Tony’s entire body felt oversensitive, like lightning was coursing all over his skin, making everything more intense, and yet his mind was like molasses, disconnected. 

A shiver coursed up his spine, a moan falling from parted lips… He felt so _wanton_ … 

Another tug bent his head back, exposing his neck. Tony was unresisting, relaxed in his God’s grasp. There was a considering hum from the God before His other hand caressed his face, cupping his jaw. A thumb brushed his cheek, wiping a tear Tony hadn’t realized he’d shed. 

Soft lips pressed to his sweetly, their breaths mingled. 

Tony blinked slowly. 

His eyes focused a little more on the handsome face before him. Scarred lips quirked up in a half smile. The green eyes crinkled at the corner, warm and amused, almost tender.

“Back with me sweetheart?”

“My God…” 

The words were breathed out reverently, Tony’s first prayer and a declaration of his love in the same triumphant exhale. 

The God’s smile turned mischievous. 

“Still so formal even after such a display, my dear? You wound me. Use my Name _, Anthony_ , I know you know it.”

Tony blushed, he couldn’t help the wave of embarrassment as he suddenly realized just how compromising a position he was in, and what an impression he must have made on his God. He struggled to make his uncoordinated limbs hold him up and pull himself to rights, but the hand that was still in his hair tightened, holding him firmly in place. 

The God tutted. 

“No moving, my dear, you make such a pretty picture.” 

Tony’s eyes snapped back to His, incoherent spluttering expressing both his horror and indignation. 

_Surely He did not mean to make him stay in such a mortifying pose?_

The God merely smiled. 

“ _Now,_ I did ask you something, Beloved.” 

Tony could feel the red crawling up his neck and blood pulsing in his ears. Here he was, bare ass up in the air, still half hard cock bobbing between his legs and arms barely holding him up, facing his God for the first time in the most undignified way possible and He wanted to play _mind games?_

How exactly had he forgotten that his God was an asshole?

His eyes narrowed.

“Do forgive me, _my God,_ I must have missed our previous meeting where You actually _told it to me_ and gave me leave to use it. My most _sincerest_ apologies, I do so cherish our conversations.”

The God released his hair and threw His head back in a delighted laugh. It shook through His whole body, possessing Him whole until it had run its course. 

Tony was fascinated. 

He’d scarcely met people so unrestrained in their joy. And yet, he could tell it wasn’t a deity to be trifled with, the aura of danger and restrained violence permeating the air around him. Shaking His head on a last chuckle, still shivering with mirth, smile sharp as an unsheathed blade, He caught Tony’s eyes with a challenging stare. 

“So _feisty_ , Anthony. One could almost believe that you are angry with me. Surely not.” 

His voice was low and measured, the warning clear as day. A threat that told him he had best tread carefully, or else.  

“Are you going to tell me that you truly do not know the Name of your God?”

Of course he knew His Name. He’d always known, though he’d never told anyone. 

Beloveds, after all, weren’t made aware of such until after their vows, when they were visited by their God, and sometimes not even then. But Tony had never been _just_ a Beloved. 

He was a _Chosen._ And that meant he had never been afraid of anything his God could do to him. 

So he looked straight in His too green eyes and smiled just as fiercely. 

“Am I? I don’t know, my God, perhaps You should remind me?” 

The God’s brows raised with pleasant surprise before a predatory smile spread across his face. His eyes crinkled into half moons as they promised many, many wicked things. 

Tony gulped. 

Apparently, he had said exactly the right thing and his God was pleased. And now he was in big, _big_ trouble. Well, too late to turn back now. 

In a game of chicken against a Trickster, you either go big or go home. 

Tony held the gaze as steadily as he could, though the devilish smile made something warm and tingly run down his spine. He had not moved since he’d been bid to stay, and the feel of cool air against his privates was at the same time uncomfortable and arousing. He shifted awkwardly under eyes that missed nothing, and the amused glint in their depth told him that the God _did_ somehow appreciate his predicament.  

He wasn’t entirely sure it was a good thing. 

“My poor darling Anthony. So forgetful are you? Perhaps we can find a way to… _motivate_ your memory?” 

Tony shivered. Definitely a good thing. _Not._ Not a good thing. 

_Right._

The God straightened from his crouch before him, looking around the deserted garden for a minute before turning his attention back to him. 

“I don’t think you are being very truthful, darling. Are you really being untruthful to your God, Anthony?” 

A couple of fingers lifted Tony’s chin, bending his head backwards and exposing his neck. A single bead of sweat rolled from his temple and dropped from his jaw, getting lost among the dewdrops. 

Time held still and Tony realized that he was holding his breath. 

The drumbeat of his heart echoed too loud in his ears. 

He let out his breath. It misted in the morning air, blurring his sight for a second until all that was left was the glowing green of his God’s eyes. 

_This was not the way mist worked._

When his sight cleared, He was no longer crouched before him and Tony panicked for a second before he felt the warmth along his back and lips curling into a smirk against his ear. 

It really shouldn’t relax him, his God clearly had _something_ in mind and he’d read enough to know to be wary of His plots. 

But he was the God’s Chosen. 

Tony melted into the embrace, even as he felt a hand closing around his wrist, thumbing the sticky jade beads. 

“You know, Beloved… these beads represent the Virtues you swore to uphold…” 

He tugged on one and the bracelet slid _weirdly_ around his wrist… 

“This one in particular…” 

The words were a gleeful whisper against his ear. Tony was getting tired of dramatic pauses. He wasn’t certain whether he dreaded what his God was planning or if he was excited about it. The feelings made his heart pound and his belly tingle but he wanted Him to _get on with it._

“...Represents Truth.”

The irony was too much for Tony to keep silent on this one. He knew, _he knew,_ it was a bad idea, but… 

“Respectfully my God, I am not certain that _You_ of all people can lecture me on such a thing as _dishonesty.”_

There was a low considering hum, though Tony was reassured to hear an amused note in it. It probably meant trouble for him, but at least his God was not angry at his sass. 

“Well then…”

Oh yes, he could definitely hear a smug smile in that smooth _dark_ voice. Tony shivered, bowing his head and arching his back up, against the chest hovering above him. What had he gotten himself into? 

The God _tugged_ and the beads slid off his wrist, and he could see them sparkling green from the corner of his eyes, and they seemed to meld together and _shift_ in a way that hurt his eyes. 

“...think of this not as a _lecture…”_

The beads seemed to swell in growing increments, moving under the green light of his God’s magic, aligning on a flexible row. 

Tony had a bad feeling about this. 

“...but as a _hands on_ demonstration.”

Tony’s mouth felt very _dry_ suddenly. 

Especially as the first bead, the one that He was pointing to, _Truth_ , and that should have actually been the smallest, started swelling as well, until it was almost as wide as the middle one. 

There were nine beads on that bracelet. Nine beads for nine Virtues. According to his God, there was only one that he had broken. 

His God was an asshole. 

Tony turned his head up, looking over his shoulder and catching his God’s eye. The fiendish smile and leering eyes told him that he would not be getting out of this. 

Tony swallowed nervously, and took a bracing breath. 

Sometimes you’ve got to run before you walk. Might as well make it count. 

When he looked back up, his eyes were determined and his answering smile challenging. 

“Well, my God, what do You expect to _demonstrate_ with this?” 

The God’s smile softened a tad, relief showing and disappearing just as quickly. Something warm unfurled inside Tony’s chest as he got confirmation of his God’s care. He knew that, had he been truly scared, He would have stopped. 

Though that didn’t mean He would not answer Tony’s challenge. 

With an impish look He swirled a glowing finger around that last bead. The sparkling magic seemed to be drawn to it, seeping in the polished, clean _,_ jade. He had no idea what it was meant to do, but it didn’t bode well. 

If Tony was right, _and he probably was_ , that would be the first bead _inside him._ Goddamnit what was he getting himself into this was huge! 

Tony had a bad feeling about that. (Or maybe a great feeling about that). 

“I was planning on showing you how _unwise_ lying to a God is, for they might just _make you_ tell the Truth.” 

The picture his God made, sitting back on His haunches, half naked, tall and lean with corded muscles hinting at hidden strength, slapping the jade _device_ rhythmically against His palm with a mischievous smile and warm eyes, all predatory intent, unbridled power held back, Tony knew, only by His desire not to hurt His Chosen… 

It was burned inside his mind forever. 

Tony’s mouth watered, and his insides quivered with sheer _want._

Had he not been prostrated before Him already, he would have fell down on his knees before such a sight. 

As it was, he merely waited with bated breath for the next part of the performance. 

“Now, I believe I should ask you again, should I not? _What is my Name, Anthony?”_

Tony swallowed, trembling before the single minded focus of his God, the absolute dominion of a force of nature tampered only by _sentiment_ , one that was promising dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, _pleasurable torment and exquisite torture,_ throwing down a dare and a challenge and yet giving him an out at the same time. 

And yet Tony had never been able to resist a challenge. 

With narrowed eyes that dared Him to do his worst, Tony threw down his own challenge. 

“I believe I told You, my God, that I didn’t know it. What are You going to do about it?” 

_Bring it on,_ is what he didn’t quite say, but it was heard loud and clear nonetheless. 

_Do your worst._

And the God’s eyes burned with the same fire. He smiled a smile full of teeth and relished at the visible reaction in his Chosen. 

Leaning down over him, He grasped Tony’s hair and forced his head down, pulling deliciously at his scalp and making him look back at his hanging cock, still red between his bare thighs, and the God’s own leather clad legs behind him. 

Tony breathed out shakily. So far so good. He could deal with this. 

_“_ Just as I said, Beloved. I will teach you the value of being truthful to your God.”

Tony froze. There was something in that voice, in the tone He used, smug and hungry, that made him think he was missing something. Something obvious.  

There was a low dark chuckle behind him as the hand left his hair with one last pat, before caressing down his spine, dissolving his thin white garment to golden dust and leaving him naked before His covetous gaze.  

The hand stayed there, a steady weight and pressure that became Tony’s single point of focus as his other senses strained to predict what would happen. 

Almost against his will, Tony felt himself relax in the touch that felt familiar yet not, the steadying feeling of _someone actually touching him…_

It felt like his whole skin was shuddering in pleasure, and the burning warmth was such a soothing counterpoint from his chilled flesh that it took him a moment to realize that something _else_ was happening. A few coils of magic were sneaking around his skin, writhing about and leaving burning trails in their wake. Tony’s eyes widened in alarm as he felt his skin _tingle_ and warmth pulse along the phantom ropes.  

He could feel every single sticky path across his body, each one a torture of its own kind. Every brush of wind, every shift of grass was _too much,_ echoing all across his body, making his belly warm and his cock _pulse_ and _harden_ , until Tony started trembling with the overwhelming assault upon his senses. And as the tendrils kept making their way steadily down his limbs, twinning around them, he gave a single alarmed cry and his arms just _gave out._

The shock of his chest impact made him come back to his senses for a second as he realized his arms were being pulled apart, spreading him out on the ground and leaving his ass prominently raised. 

More concerning, there seemed to be some of these glowing green ropes not only on his arms, but also a couple snaking across his chest and belly, and a few more winding around his legs, and somehow spreading his knees wider. 

Tony was _appalled_. 

Until he tried to shift his arm and _bliss_ came across his nerves, making his cock throb and he groaned with frustration, his whole body squirming with the sensation, close, too close, _not quite enough…_

Which pulled against the _other_ bonds and made his whole body _sing_ with ecstasy, his back bowed and his hips pumped the air as his release broke over him. His muscles contracted all over, with limbs jerking and pulling as he twisted helplessly about, his chest scraping over the ground. His mouth opened for a silent breathless cry, as pleasure kept coursing over his body in relentless waves, come spurting out over his belly, across the grass, a couple drops reaching up to his jaw. 

Finally spent, Tony slumped, trembling in the aftershocks, his skin still tingling, throbbing along the places the magic had coated. He desperately attempted to gulp in some new air, his lungs empty, his limbs weak. His thighs were trembling and violent shudders wracked his frame. And yet he felt strangely good, giddy and worn out, almost comfortable.  

His God was rubbing his back as he caught his breath, kneading his spine and helping him settle down, guiding his breaths with small encouraging murmurs as he came back to his body. The other hand was fondling his ass, thumb rubbing over the exposed crack. He could just feel his anus clench shut in answer to the tease. 

He wondered for a second _where_ his beads were, since obviously the God wasn’t holding them anymore, before he felt the weight across his shoulders, surrounded by the heavy knots of immaterial ropes coating it with the same sticky and slippery substance that was making his skin cry out for touch.  

Tony was a genius, but he didn’t need to be in order to have a fairly good idea of where _this thing_ would be going. And if the stories he’d overheard were true… With an impending sense of doom, he started to wonder if he wasn’t in just a little bit _over his head._

He wouldn’t back out of course, even if he knew he still could, but did he even _want_ to? 

As he felt the press of the beads over his back, he started to take stock of the rest of his body and suddenly realized that his predicament had somehow _worsened_ as he was... _distracted_. 

He had not realized that apparently the ropes twisting around him had moved when he had, leaving behind more tingling trails that suddenly made themselves known to him, throbbing with want and _need_ for friction. 

But that was only to be expected. The surprise was on the fact that there seemed to be _more_ ropes, and more of that thrice-be-damned slippery substance coating his skin and leaking out of those bonds.  

They had spread all over his back in a network of pulsating caresses, going down his arms and stroking his neck teasingly while holding his shoulders firmly pressed to the ground, criss crossing over his chest and down his belly, curling around the base of his cock and slipping behind his balls, stopping just shy of his asshole and then slipping over his cheeks, then down covering his thighs almost entirely.  

At this point, it was probably the only thing still holding him up as he felt his strength entirely drained. 

He was _caught_ , spread open and pinned down, bound at his God’s mercy, or lack thereof. 

Tony twitched in bonds at the thought, deliciously nerve-wracking as it was, and felt the echoes of bliss scattering across his skin in immediate retaliation. It was overwhelming, all over him, tingling along his ribs, sending fiery trails of need in his inner thighs, it felt almost like his entire skin was begging for touch, for the balm of his God’s hands on him, and yet he was cruelly denied as helpless yearning made him twist about and quiver all over. His spent cock made a valiant twitch at the deluge of sensation, before he finally managed to _stop moving_ , making the devastating crush of sensation, of _pleasure,_ quieten down to a simple muted tingle. 

As he had previously observed, it seemed like the magical coils around him had swelled and multiplied in answer to his movement, the weave of the net surrounding him having become even more close-knit, leaving less and less skin free from the hellish substance that he was learning to associate with sweet, sweet torment. 

Damn, but Tony really loved magic. Hated. Definitely hated magic. 

Tony whimpered. It was already way too much, and he _knew_ there was much more to come. The beads across his shoulders weren’t just an empty threat. 

But what was He waiting for? Why was He not touching him.  

Was his God really just going to look at him squirm helplessly in his bonds, fighting an impossible battle against the _bloody trap_ He’d stuck him in?  

The grass smelled good, he noted absentmindedly as he did his best to relax and focus on his breathing. The fine tremors still coursing over him were enough to send the entire net sparking, and he tried his best to regulate his movements to keep the magic’s reaction to a minimum. 

He distinctly felt his hanging cock begging for attention between his legs, the steady pulse he recognized as a slow hardening. 

He couldn’t believe it was already rising back up, and wasn’t that kind of thing supposed to take some time? He felt too wrung out, too hollow and helpless, drained by the continuous stimulus and the battering of pleasure against his senses. (He loved it) 

Drops of sticky hell-liquid were rolling over his neck, pooling in the corner of his jaw. He was panting, trying to keep his breaths as shallow as possible in order to leave the magic undisturbed, but the contact of the arousing fluid with the already sensitive skin of his neck and jaw was making his self control go to Hell. His legs started trembling in earnest, knees giving out and spreading even more, pulling at the muscles in his inner thighs, the burning stretch a pleasant counterpoint to the punishing pleasure assaulting his skin _everywhere._

Tony could feel the new tendrils crawling over him, closing over him and finally reaching his most sensitive places, the onslaught too quick for him to do anything but helplessly assess the results.  

There was a large coil curling around his neck, firmly cradling his jaw and pressing in a _spot_ just behind his right ear and the pressure added to the constant _tingle_ of his skin was _almost enough_ to distract him from an inquisitive tip that was poking around his asshole, spreading its juice so liberally that he could feel it drip down his asscrack and pool at that spot behind his balls, oh God… 

He had meant to explore that part on his own, but the idea of feeling _that_ way _inside,_ as he was so out of control, and he’d just started to get used to the feeling damnit…

For the first time Tony actually struggled against the bonds, momentary panic making him forget his predicament for a second as he pulled against the ropes to no avail. Trying to get away from the overly curious magical construct only made it press harder, not breaching him but rubbing and teasing and tugging lightly as his entire body felt caught on fire. The pleasure running through his nerves reached higher and higher as he _writhed_ on the ground, the bonds tightening over him providing desperately needed pressure and at the same time making his skin _even more sensitive_. 

A stray vine had looped around his dick and climbed all over it, giving _oh so sweet_ pressure and _squeezing_ and damn Tony didn’t know if he was before but he was _definitely_ hard at that moment. 

In fact he was just about to burst, his hips desperately humping the air as much as he could with his knees spread so wide, a low keen escaping his mouth as he felt so so close, reaching for that high, a release from the overflow of sensation that had been torturing him for what felt like _hours…_

His God tsked behind him. 

“What a naughty boy I have here. I generously let you have a first orgasm even though you had been lying to me, and now you would have another without your God’s leave? You are remiss in your manners, darling. If you want to come, you will have to work for it.” 

The voice was so steady and matter of fact that it took a moment for Tony’s buzzing ears to recognize words, and then to realize that these words were addressed to him. It took even longer for his overwhelmed mind to actually make sense of them, even as the God helpfully repeated them a couple of times. 

Even then, Tony didn’t understand. The sheer amount of euphoria flooding his veins was nigh unstoppable, he felt his release coming just through the aftershocks of the cocoon of magic and sticky goo all over him, he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to! So he kept on humping the air, the delicious squeeze of magic around his cock and the intoxicating feeling brought by the goop squelching all over him, letting his arousal reach higher… and higher… 

_His release was not coming._

The realization was like a bucket of cold water, his God held his ability to come in his hands and _He would not let him,_ even though Tony was going crazy with every inch of him crying out for a respite. He was feverish and almost delirious with the pleasure flooding his body, and his God would not offer him mercy. 

Tony trembled, feeling another variation of _too much_ mixing with _not enough_ and he moaned as he felt a surge of arousal at the idea that he was so entirely vulnerable to his God’s whims, so entirely under his control. His cock throbbed anew. 

He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to come back down from his high, regulating his breath, calming his thoughts. But it all proved useless and he sobbed out his frustration as his arousal simply refused to wane, each fine tremor fanning the flames all over again and bringing his efforts back to nothing. 

The writhing magic was covering him completely and tormenting him at the slightest movement. Even _breathing_ made the whole damn thing move, caressing his skin, honing on to which spots got the most reaction, and teasing those mercilessly. Tony felt like there was a direct line connecting his poor abused nipples straight to his dick and the tendril coiled around his jaw appeared to take great enjoyment in making his whole body jerk with just a few teasing rubs. 

And that didn’t even take into account the near constant stimulation of his private parts, the coil milking his cock or the one massaging his balls that sometimes gave a firm nudge on the skin right behind them that made him jolt and cry out every single time without fail. 

Or the one that kept molesting his asshole, making him groan and squirm in his bonds as it teased him open just enough to pop in and out of the ring of muscle, not enough to penetrate, just there _constantly_ and leaking profusely. He was almost certain that some of the juice had managed to seep inside, the feeling of unfulfilled heat, that characteristic need for touch, for pressure to relieve the _need,_ and the coil of magic was still teasing his hole, strumming the tight ring that seemed more and more relaxed each time, and at the same time all the more _sensitive_ as the coil became a familiar and even expected fixture around his intimate parts. 

And each time he was teased, Tony moved. And each time he moved, the cycle started all over again. The intermittent rhythm of the teasing made it impossible for him to predict which torment he would be subjected to, or even how many of them to brace against. He fell more and more into the rhythm of playful agony, twisting and lurching into the bonds in reaction to each new fondling, making his mind disconnect even more from reality as he became pure sensation, a tortured soul that was drowning in his pleasure with no hope of escaping. 

It was all too much, and it was still just not enough…

A sensation that was becoming familiar and more than pleasant… 

Tony whined low in his throat, he was beyond words, beyond worry, beyond anything but his entire body throbbing in time with his pulse, his gasping breaths and helpless panting, his too hard cock crying with arousal and each jolt of pleasure racketeering through him. The _need_ was becoming more and more unbearable. 

“My poor darling, what an _interesting_ predicament you found yourself in…” 

The smug voice of his God cut through the haze of pleasure that was fogging his mind, bringing him back to a single moment of focus instead of a constant flow of sensation. The shock was jarring, his entire body jolting as he remembered where he was and with whom, and who exactly had put him in this “predicament”. 

A potent mixture of anticipation and dread made him cling to each word and wait with bated breath for what his God would say next. 

Was there a key to end his torment hidden amongst them? A sign of his God’s mercy? 

Or was it the promise of more to come? The beads that were still soaking on his back maybe?

Slowly his trembling and twisting started dying down as his focus shifted to the steady presence behind him. A sense of calm settled over him even as his veins still burned with arousal. The trust he had in his God was absolute, even if said God was a glorious asshole. _An evil asshole._

“Are you enjoying yourself, my darling?” 

Tony groaned, the nonchalant words echoing through his spine and making him tremble with frustration and arousal, an answering pulse of pleasure washing over him making his body clench, his ass wiggling and lifting even more in the air in offering and his chest seeking friction for his nipples. He was certain that his bobbing cock was leaking precome all it could, clear fluid mixing with the gooey substance that he was bathed in, and his hole was winking and clenching as if it was presenting itself up for his God’s lewd designs on his body. 

Was he enjoying himself? The gall of that God asking him such a thing!

Of course he was enjoying himself, it felt so good! Wait no, it was awful, very awful. 

Tony was way too conflicted to trust himself with an answer. He relaxed in his cocoon and let the sensations wash over him. He’d discovered that it was much easier to bear when he wasn’t struggling against the onslaught of sensations and reaching for a release that he could never obtain. When he just sank into them and surrendered to the magic, it was so much easier to endure, a constant state of euphoria that he was finally adjusting to. 

Regulating his breathing to clear his head, Tony let his focus slide to his God, the awareness of his body’s plight fading to the background as he went limp. 

Tony licked his lips with a shuddering breath, and contemplated whether he was _really_ expected to answer. His throat felt dry, and his mind was still fuzzy. He was almost sure that words were quite beyond him. 

The hum that came after the few moments of silence, punctuated only by Tony’s desperate groans and panting breaths, was so self satisfied that it rekindled the small fire of indignation in Tony’s chest. 

Obviously, his God was quite enjoying his plight. 

He must have been making quite the spectacle of himself, contorting himself in the magic’s confines, trussed up and opened on display before Him, practically begging for His touch, for His favor, His mercy...

God, he wanted....

“You know, my sweet, if you were to beg me for a boon, I might let you have what you need. On my terms, of course. You want to please your God, don’t you, Anthony?”

The words rattled inside his brain, causing almost as much anguish as the desperate need saturating his body. His God was not abandoning him to his fate, He was there and He would give him _relief_ from the heat in his veins driving him out of his mind… But Tony knew it would not come for free. With his luck, _with his God_ , it was quite likely that what was presented as clemency would only turn out to be an even _worse_ form of agony. 

Perhaps sensing his indecision, the restraints that were still enveloping him _tightened_ , squelching around him and rubbing more of the goop into his skin, until every pore was screaming with pleasure at the friction, too sensitive, yet needing more and more of their touch. The bonds on his legs lifted him up in the air leaving him suspended, helpless against the manhandling, the coils fondling him as he squirmed. He cried out, gasping and sobbing at the sudden increase of _too much_ , feeling more vulnerable than he ever had. 

Apparently, his God had decided to raise the stakes since he was taking too much time to answer. 

Bastard. 

That was the only coherent thought running through his mind at the moment, the feverish _need_ building up in his belly and his heartbeat drumming in his ears, drowning everything that wasn’t pure excruciating _pleasure_ from his thoughts… 

The world stopped making sense for a while. 

Everything was a blur of over-sensitive skin and all-consuming urgency. He no longer had any control over his body thrashing about or the desperate cries torn from his throat, only interspersed with piteous keens when his devious prison let up its merciless euphoria, just long enough for him to catch his breath and start winding down, before it started all over again. 

His cock was just raw agony, the culmination of the punishment his body was being put through, his balls were clenched tight, _so full_ , about to burst each time they were fondled and squeezed by the enthusiastic tangle of magic. 

The unrelenting vine was still probing around his hole, until the rim was loose and tired, until the pulsing tendril could squirt more and more goo inside him… He felt himself burning _,_ with want, with pleasure, with need, he was so _empty,_ clenching on nothing, the ring of muscle was _aching_ for more. 

Everything was too much, and he needed more. 

Tears of frustration gathered in the corner of his eyes as he submitted himself to the relentless assault from outside and had to endure the irrepressible delight and agony from _inside_. 

It was too much!

“Oh, my poor sweet Anthony. Why must you be so stubborn? I am a benevolent God. Just ask and your relief shall be granted.”

Somehow Tony’s answering scoff turned into a sob. He felt broken, pulled apart at the seams and unable to pull himself back together. He was trembling all over, and the retaliation of the vines was still as brutal as ever, but as raw as he felt he just couldn’t bear it anymore, and...

“ _Please_!”

His voice was wrecked, his words mangled by the shortness of his breath and his choking gasps, his throat was sore and dry and his brain too muddled to actually make his words shaped right… 

And his plea was apparently not enough as the assault on his senses kept ravaging him, the onslaught shattering what was left of his composure as Tony started sobbing in earnest, a constant stream of incoherent begging prayers falling from his lips as he burned and shook under the tender ministrations of his God’s magic. 

And then… everything _stopped._

Tony kept shaking and begging for a few moments as his mind tried to catch up with the conflicting information coming from his body. The lack of external stimuli, the stillness of the restraints encasing him was jarring, a shock to his senses and a torture of its own. Tony was still desperately aroused, just on the verge of coming, his skin, _his cock,_ crying out for contact, for the fulfilling touch of his God, for the pressure and weight that sparked pleasure instead of desperation. 

And yet, it was still a relief. His arousal wasn’t climbing higher, he wasn’t being wound up more and more until he lost all sense of reality, he was actually able to catch his breath and take a moment to examine the way his body felt and actually be able to _think_. 

“There you go, my love. It wasn’t that hard now, was it?” 

Said the one that wasn’t trussed up like a turkey about to be stuffed. 

_“_ Says the one who isn’t bound up in magic torture ropes.” 

So Tony _almost_ had a brain filter. He was also apparently incapable of making good life choices and stop himself from sassing off to his particularly sadistic God. 

He wasn’t expecting the God to actually _laugh_ at his impertinent words, however. 

“Oh my darling, but I was only doing as you wanted! Did you not challenge me? Did you not want me to do my worst? I was only complying to my lover’s wish, there. You are my Beloved, after all, and it is important to me to make sure you are satisfied.” 

The God’s hand was back on his head, petting him sweetly, burying long fingers through his messy hair and scratching his scalp in just the right way to make Tony’s eyes roll back in bliss. 

But the sweet, sweet caress was not enough to distract him from his indignation. He could hear the mixture of fondness and deviousness in his God’s voice, the hint of mockery overlaid with good humor and pleasure. His God must feel very satisfied with Himself, indeed! 

He couldn’t possibly believe that he would accept that preposterous claim, could He? As if He had not jumped at the opportunity to torment him for His entertainment! 

His lips pursed with an epic pout and he glared down the only patch of greenery he could see, with his head held in place and cradled by the tortuous vine that had mercifully stopped stroking his jaw and teasing the too sensitive spot behind his ear. Small mercies. 

His outrage must have been sufficiently obvious for his God to call him out on it, with a light tug on his hair sparking light pain on his scalp that made a trail of fire blaze down his spine and pool in his loins, reminding him starkly of his still too hard cock and his painfully tight balls. He squirmed and  thrashed in his bonds, hips pumping the air as much as he could from his suspended position, but there was no answering pressure, no temporary relief, nothing to fuel his frenzied urge for that elusive peak, _so_ _close_.. _._

And yet he was still denied. The lack friction let the temporary high fade back into a background smolder. The delicate fingers on his scalp stroked him soothingly as he calmed down, his shaky breath escaping his burning lungs in a pitiful whimper. 

It took a few more gasps before Tony readjusted to the lack of stimulation, to the burning frustration of the lack of touch on his starving skin, the disconcerting stillness where before there was a constant pulsing, writhing _everywhere_. 

Slowly, he let himself go boneless. The soft petting on his head was a soothing counterpoint to the shivery feeling of his skin. His God seemed to take that as a sign to continue speaking, His voice low and calming, if a tad mischievous, a lover’s confession, a dirty secret intimately spoken against his ear.  

“‘Tis true, Beloved. I had wanted to make our first time together easier on you, to ease you into a more… _carnal_... affair. You did not seem to want things to be _easy_ , however. You were the one not to want peaceful, darling, you wanted a challenge. And I will _always_ endeavor to comply with your desires.” 

Tony resigned himself to being in love with a complete and utter _jerk._

“You can’t tell me You didn’t enjoy _that_.”

His voice cracked a little while he spoke back, though his words still managed to come as wry as he intended. _Good._

The thought came to him fleetingly that maybe he should tone down on the impertinent backtalk. It was gone just as soon, when he heard his God’s answering laugh. 

“Oh, I would never! You are always a delight to watch, Anthony, but you are exceptionally lovely in the throes of passion. Watching you move like that was simply captivating. And I believe you quite enjoyed yourself, did you not?” 

Tony’s brain blanked. Oh yes, he had enjoyed himself, and had loved (hated) every second of it. But did he want to ever admit to it to his smug sadistic Deity?  

And yet he knew that there was a penalty for lying, one that involved the prayer beads that were still on his back. One that he still waited for, and dreaded, (and wanted, and needed)...  

Tony shivered, conflicted between the desire to push back, _to lie_ just to see what would happen, and deny any pleasure he’d felt, and his apprehension (arousal) at the thought of more of his God’s particular brand of cruelty.  

And there was another thought niggling his mind, one that couldn’t be ignored. 

Which answer would please his God the most? 

In the end, he chose neither, the non-answer letting him avoid the verbal trap that had been laid before him. 

After all, agreeing with Him when He was already so smug would validate Him and He might get _ideas;_ and yet lying more would give Him an excuse to _implement them_.  

So he said something that was undoubtedly true, and yet wouldn’t endorse more of His particularly _evil_ ideas of what constituted pleasure. 

“My God, with all due respect, You are an absolute asshole.” 

His God _snorted_. 

“Anthony, sweetheart, right now I think you should be worrying about _your_ asshole rather than mine.” 

That was probably good advice. If only he could bring himself to follow it… 

There was a contemplative silence as the God’s voice seemed to trail off. Tony twitched, holding his breath, the anticipation somehow heightening his senses, and making him aware of the way he was swaying gently in the webbings. He very much felt like the spider’s meal caught and trussed up, ready to be devoured by the awaiting predator. 

The caress on his head suddenly felt a bit more sinister, a sensual threat instead of a reassuring stroke. As his God brushed away the sweat soaked hair from his forehead, a violent shiver ran up his spine, making him swing madly from the place he was suspended, his arms and legs kicking out in reflex as fear and want mixed up and stole his breath. 

The jitters soon calmed down as He tightened his grip on his hair, pulling sharply and tilting his head up. The whole net of restraints squeezed up, hardening until the breadth of his ability to move was reduced almost to nothing, the flexible feel of the ropes turning almost wooden, hugging him tight and secured.

Tony breathed out, then in, his body yielding to their hold, relaxing every muscle and letting himself hang. The hand on his head let go and resumed its petting, and Tony let out a contented sigh. 

Little by little, the cocoon loosened its hold on him, reverting back to its previous state. 

Tony stayed blissfully calm, the arousal still burning hot through his veins, and pulsing in his cock, easily ignored in this serene disposition. 

“That’s interesting.” 

The voice pierced through the fog of tranquility that saturated his mind, bringing back the awareness of his body and reminding him of his current predicament. 

Tony opened his mouth, not quite aware of what would come out of it but knowing it would definitely be _inappropriate_ , when a soft finger touched his lips. 

“While I appreciate you being sassy, my dear, and I am glad you feel comfortable enough to do so, I must ask you to consider your words carefully. You wouldn't want to get yourself in even _more_ trouble, now would you?” 

Tony considered his current plight, vulnerable and aroused, hanging from too many restraints presenting his ass up for his tormentor’s perusal, liquid fire scorching through his veins, on his skin, inside of him...

There was merit to what his God was saying. 

He kept his mouth shut, but his eyes opened, seeing his God crouched before him, staring down at him. Tony looking expectantly back, sensing somehow that He wanted to speak. At the moment, Tony didn’t feel like trying to interrupt him, or indeed disturb the peaceful mood between them. 

There was something undefinable in the God’s face, an emotion he couldn’t name, and His gaze was searching his own for something that He seemed to find, if the relief briefly flashing through His eyes was to be believed. 

Tony felt warmed at the show of concern, and the silent check on his state of mind. He’d known that his God cared, that He would stop should he ever find himself in true distress, but it was nice to have the confirmation. 

His God had put their game on pause without a question, He’d taken care of him, making sure that he was fine and never once had He looked the slightest bit upset at him. 

A crooked smile grew on the God’s face, warm and fond, banishing the clouds of worry from his features, and mischievous green eyes glowed with anticipation. 

“Now that your misadventure is over, would you care to tell me how you are feeling, Beloved?” 

 _This_ , Tony knew how to deal with. Previous warning aside, if the silences shared between God and Chosen were for quiet understandings, and stolen moments of peace, the conversations were for verbal sparrings and challenging each other. 

The enquiry was honest, he knew, and had he needed to tap out, or even just take a small break, this was an opportunity offered quite explicitly. But Tony didn’t need that, he needed to fan the flames and make his God squirm as much as he had, and if it wasn’t possible, then at least he would face Him head on and keep Him on his toes. 

So his answer, while still gravelly with dryness, was mischief and challenge as well as a reassurance. 

“I don’t know, my God, how do You think I should be feeling exactly? Maybe something along the lines of “horny and frustrated.” No, actually I know: I feel like Someone used magic to string me up and tease me until I was about to come then tease me some more and _more_ without ever letting me find any kind of release. Yes, this sounds like an accurate description. What do You say?” 

The God’s answering smile was just as amused, relaxing nonchalantly on one arm with the rest of his body out of view. 

“So, I take it that you are quite recovered, then?” 

Tony pouted as his God refused to take the bait. His brows lowered as he sent a mulish look His way, feeling like a brat and not caring one bit. 

His God only seemed to be entertained with the spectacle. His eyes were shining with mirth, but He didn’t seem mocking, just fond. 

Tony could live with that. 

Shaking His head with a low chuckle, the God seemed to put himself back into their game, His next words carrying the dark undertones of dirty secrets and filthy delicious promises. 

“Tell me, my dear, do you still want to find your release?” 

The question was about as appalling as it was arousing, and yet it made a tiny flicker of hope burn in his chest. He’d been held on the edge for so long, been denied so many times, that he didn’t realize that he’d stopped actually expecting to come. 

Which was rather ridiculous, since his God had explicitly told him he would let him at some point, but with his entire body turned into an instrument of pleasure at His whim, finding his peak had started to feel secondary to following the melody. 

But of course he still _wanted,_ his skin igniting at the reminder of the pleasure it had felt and the high it was still yearning for. 

“Considering that my cock still feels like a raw nerve and I am quite certain that any kind of touch would make my balls burst, I would say it is fair to say so yes. Being denied doesn’t actually make the desire go away.” 

He was still pretty indignant about the preposterous question as he answered, sarcasm heavy in his voice, his attention shifting between the frustration brewing in his belly and the smug Deity before him. 

Though perhaps it wasn’t smugness so much as the jubilant feeling one got when their prey walked straight into their trap. The predatory edge in His voice as He spoke next certainly didn’t make Tony anymore at ease. 

“Then you _do_ realize that you will only be reaching your climax on my terms right?” 

Tony almost rolled his eyes at this. As if his God hadn’t been asserting his control over the situation from the beginning. 

As if Tony actually objected to that. 

“I believe I am a bit too _tied up_ at the moment to contest Your control of the situation my God.”   

Quite literally so, in fact. Not that he would actually say as such, but the sardonic look he sent up to his God from where he was (comfortably!) held down chest to chin on the ground was more than eloquent enough in his opinion. 

The God snickered, cheerfully petting his head, with an affectionate smile softening His features and comforting Tony more than words could say. 

His God loved him. 

It wasn’t news, of course. He’d spoken to his God in dreams before, fleetingly. He’d also born the title of Beloved for most of his life. However, it was one thing to be called as such, and quite another to actually witness the care in His eyes.   

Tony smiled back, just as mushy. And then something _shifted_ between the two of them, the air becoming charged with intent and raw lust, a shrewd glint appearing in the God’s eyes, hints of teeth in a fox’s smile before He tugged his head back sharply by the hair still in His grasp. He brought His face close enough to Tony’s that their breaths mingled together, paying no mind to the guttural groan that escaped his throat as the sweet ache from his scalp seared through his spine and joined in the dormant lava pooled in his belly. 

“Are you listening to me, my Beloved?” 

The God’s grip tightened as Tony let out a needy whine, shivering as he did his best to focus through the distracting sting, blinking at Him to keep his eyes from rolling back in bliss. 

Apparently he liked his hair being pulled on. And his devious God had found out, and was using that knowledge to His own end already. 

As Tony’s eyes unfocussed again at a particularly pleasing yank, a passing thought told him that it was very good indeed that his God’s wishes aligned with his so well. 

The God shook His head with an indulgent laugh, before patting down soothingly at Tony’s fluffy head. 

“I actually need you to focus right now, darling. Can you do that for me?” 

Tony let out a mournful sigh before focusing his attention back solely on his God. His gaze sharpened, knowing that their verbal spar might just begin again and he would need his wits about him in order to be able to keep up. He nodded as much as he was able from his position, and the God flashed him a playfully naughty smile before pulling the string of beads before him. 

Tony gulped. 

“Do you know what these are?” 

The answer was quite obvious. They might have looked quite different, but to Tony’s eyes, they were definitely recognizable. He had been wearing those jade pearls for more than a decade before his God had transformed them. 

They were now connected together, like a flexible rod made of adjoining spheres, each of them now a different size, getting bigger by increments as it got closer to a….handle. Except the first bead, that one was about as big as the middle one, and Tony recognized it as the one bearing the sigil of the Truth Virtue. 

Go figure. 

Though Tony was surprised to find that the smallest one was barely any bigger than the original beads and even the biggest one wasn’t any bigger than a walnut. 

Honestly, going with how much his God had been tormenting him and how worried he had been about that thing, he was decidedly unimpressed. 

He was much more worried about the sticky Hell Goo coating it. He could swear the sparkly golden magic inside the clear fluid was alive. In fact, to his wary eyes, the whole thing looked way too sentient. 

So when he looked back into his God’s eyes, his gaze was ablaze with cockiness, a brazen smile pulling at his lips as he challenged Him boldly. 

“Those are my prayer beads. One bead for each of the Nine Sacred Virtues. But really, what is the fuss about? They're so small!” 

A small laugh escaped him as he thought of how worried he’d been about this, how much more intimidating it had seemed from afar. Tony shook his head a little at how _gullible_ he’d been. 

Until he looked back at his God and his cocksure smile slid off his face. 

The God looked terribly amused, with a maybe patronizing slant to His eyes. There was something obvious he was missing and suddenly Tony felt like he was the butt end of the joke. 

He looked back at the jade beads. Nope, still ridiculously small. Looking back at his God, he felt confusion fill him. He was missing something. 

With a few slightly condescending pats on his head, the God raised an eyebrow at him and smiled wryly. 

“I think your eyes might be bigger than your ass. But if you insist, my love, I could be convinced to make them larger.” 

The leering smirk made Tony seriously reconsider his life’s choices, but when the God had the gall to _wink_ at him, Tony knew that he really _really_ didn’t want Him to make those beads larger. 

Tony gulped. He could vaguely remember his God warning him about his mouth getting him in trouble. Maybe he really _should_ listen. At least just this once? 

“You know what, my God? I think I’ll trust Your judgment on these. They are plenty big enough, not small at all, I’m sure. Really You don’t need to bother Yourself for me. I’m perfectly fine with this size.” 

The God snickered at his admittedly frantic backpedaling, and really Tony would be a bit more annoyed if he wasn’t quite so worried that He _would_ take his ill-thought words as a challenge. As it was, he squirmed in his ropes, not at all reassured by the God’s mirth and trying to arrange his features in a sufficiently contrite expression as to invoke some of His non existent mercy. 

It only seemed to amuse Him more. Tony pouted. 

Well, it seemed there was nothing to do but resign himself to his fate. 

But the God only shook His head and brushed His fingers through Tony’s damp but still soft hair. Tony almost purred. He really liked his God petting his hair. 

When he heard Him start speaking again, he just let His smooth voice wash over him and relaxed. 

“Now, since we are agreed on such _small_ matters as _size,_ here is what I plan to do with you. I will be sliding each of these beads in your ass, one by one, until you feel so stuffed you can feel them in your _throat._ Then, once that’s done, I am going to ask you to call my Name. Should you not answer, or answer deliberately wrong, I will take one bead out then I will ask again, and again until all the beads are out. Then I will push them back in, until you finally tell the truth. And then, if you still want it, I will fuck you. Do you agree to these terms?” 

Tony started panting again, each filthy promise sending a pulse of raw arousal flood his belly, fresh want making his dick spring back to attention. The amiable tone of his God’s voice was driving him crazy, the contrast between the evenness and what He was spouting left Tony squirming, wanton, desperate in part to be under that Deity’s steady hand, but also to break through that composure and let Him be ruffled as much as _he_ was, for once... 

The slight movement made the bonds rub against his skin, tightening the slightest bit. Tony gasped as his skin burned with _need_ again. The vines he was caught in were coming alive for the first time since he had called for mercy and his dick was certainly on board with the renewed stimulation, and insisting on being brought to climax _yesterday._ The demanding thing made him momentarily forget ploys of revenge in in the flood of arousal. 

“Oh God! Would I...Please!” 

The words were anything but coherent, but with his cock heavy between his legs, hips attempting to hump the air yet held immobile by his bonds, his skin searing, his insides tingling, clenching over nothing, every sensation just coming back to him with a vengeance, it was hard to put his thoughts in order enough to make sense. 

His God was patiently waiting but Tony didn’t exactly feel comforted by it, after all He was the one to put him in this state! Letting him take his time to speak coherently was only fair at this point. 

Though he could do without the mock pitying encouragement. 

Taking a deep breath, Tony tried again. 

“Will You let me come my God ?” 

Even speaking those lewd words out made a pulse of arousal run through him, a violent shiver pushing against the bonds and making them twist around him. He could feel his cock spurting a few more drops of precum, valiantly twitching as though it knew what Tony had just asked. 

There was something thrilling to lay his right to release in his God’s hands, some part of him purring with pleasure at the thought of pleasing Him and being pleased in turn. 

That would (probably) not stop him from trying to make his God work for such submission. 

Though, honestly He didn’t seem to have much trouble turning him into putty in His hands. There was something incredibly soothing to his God’s presence . 

As though proving that thought right, He started softly carding His fingers through his hair and scratching softly at his scalp until Tony’s eyes went half lidded, all the while speaking in that low melodious voice. 

It felt also completely saturated with mirth that he just _knew_ was at his expense. 

“Of course, my sweet. I did say that, didn’t I? You will be allowed to come whenever you want so long as you still carry the Virtues inside you.” 

Tony was torn. On one hand, the promise of being able to actually achieve climax was enough to make him tremble with excitement, his desperate cock jumping within its confines, the futile squirming making his entire skin come alive. 

On the other, he was rightfully wary of the amusement pouring from the God. He was missing something, he knew, but he could barely concentrate on that as the prospect of finally being able to climax sent everything inside him afire until he could hardly think from it all. 

There were no words and _he knew_ he was working himself up, his mind conjuring fantasies and burning with anticipation at all those delicious _things_ his God had promised him but he couldn’t help it, he _wanted,_ and _he wanted more_ , and the burning heat of need made him agree to what he was _sure_ was a trap, _but what a way to go…_  

Some small voice in his mind was actually looking forward to the trick, relishing the thought of being subjected to more of his God’s merciless torment even if he would not admit to it. He wanted to take on everything He could dish out and more, knowing that he would prevail, that he would thrive in it, and knowing that the God would love every moment of it, would love driving him mad with His games and holding his salvation in His hands. 

Tony already knew that there was no place he’d rather be than at the center of His blistering focus, feeling His eyes on him, and him only... 

...But he wouldn’t talk about that, it wouldn’t do to encourage Him to even worse behavior… 

“I agree to these terms my God.” 

He was torn then, when he spoke his formal acceptance, but only until he felt the glee coming from the God in waves. 

There was something to making his God happy that could have him endure _anything_ and feel all the stronger for it. 

He might also currently be high on magic and endorphins. That might explain the craziness. 

Tony chanced a glance up. 

The devious smile was entirely expected, as was the victorious tilt to His chin, the slightest manic edge… And yet there was such tenderness, such pride in His eyes it took his breath away. 

He held His gaze for a moment before His expression turned serious, enough so that Tony knew that whatever He was about to say was deeply important to Him. 

And yet, when He finally spoke, Tony was entirely blindsided by the cause of such concern. 

“Know that if you ever feel it becomes too much or that you are in actual distress at any time, you can make everything stop at all times, Beloved. Just say the word. I have no intention of ever harming you, so do not hesitate to call for a stop if you need it.” 

Tony had his bare ass lifted in the air and his dick swollen and leaking between his legs and that was the moment his God chose to make His grand declaration. How appropriate. 

Tony felt rooted to the spot at the earnestness in His eyes, the intensity of the almost vow spoken here. He knew somehow that this would always be true for as long as they would be together, and the air was charged with the solemnity of His pronouncement. 

Until He broke the moment with a salacious smirk. 

“After all, it’s only fun if you actually enjoy yourself.” 

There was only one way Tony could answer His edict, and that was with just as much ceremony and sass. 

“I thank You my God, I am most obliged by Your concern for my person and the good health of my behind. I am touched, truly.” 

The soft laugh and playful tugging on his curls told Tony that his message had been well received and understood, and he melted under the easy affection, letting himself relax for a while. 

Letting his guard down was a mistake. 

Tony’s eyes bulged out as the tendril that had been gently massaging his asshole in such an hypnotically comfortable way for so long suddenly _pierced_ through his rim, stretching him open for the first time. 

His breath rushed out at the intrusion, the burning sensation as his hole widened to accommodate the foreign body. The strange feel of the burning of goo igniting his insides melded with the scorching feel of his insides _expanding_ , making room for the slippery magic rope…. Everything was too intense, what was happening? 

“What????” 

He lurched forward in his shock, trying to escape the sensation, to get away from the magic spreading him open and spearing him through. He kicked his legs out and twisted in the bonds, squirming all he could and, against all expectations, he actually gained enough traction to swing forward, away, _away_ from the intrusion… 

But he couldn’t actually get away from something that was inside him could he? 

The tendril stayed inside of him, an unmoving weight that he he couldn’t escape but somehow stopped being so incredibly intense as the drag of the ground rubbing against his chest and already overstimulated nipples became a delicious distraction. 

Until he reached the highest point of his trajectory arc, and in that weightless half second he realized that the momentum could only pull him back _down_. 

He swung back roughly, the shaft inside him shoved deeper, deeper, _deeper_ , and forcing him impossibly wider as it somehow enlarged and made his rim burn with the sudden pull… 

Tony let out a wordless cry as he felt himself pushed beyond his limits, so overwhelmed by the feeling, pulled apart at the seams as he rammed back on what felt like a monstrous knot on the coil he was speared on. His rim struggled to open more, to let it through, as the force exerted by his weight swinging back down pulled it irrepressibly deeper. 

The slickness of the goo let nothing stop the inexorable slide until, with one last groan, he felt his pucker extend past the widest point and it just _popped inside_ , the ring of muscle closing back immediately over the intrusion. Not all the way, though, a thinner part was still sticking out of him, snugly hugged tight by his abused rim. 

Tony gasped through the sudden stillness, his panting echoing through the silent clearing, his skin damp and overheated, small tremors racking through him as he got used to the invasion. 

He was speared through, caught, exposed, unable to move anywhere as his most intimate parts were plundered by his God’s magic. 

His rim twitched. 

 _It burned,_ but not unpleasantly, the stretch felt strange, the unfamiliar feeling making him squirm and twist about, his hips jerking forward, _away_ , only for the large knot to catch on his rim, pulling at it from inside and sending burning warmth echoing through his body, need and want and too much and not enough, a confusing mess of contradicting messages from his nerves running through him, his balls tightening with his impending release, his cock pulsing, dripping, slapping against his belly... 

His inner walls clenched down around the magical coil stuffing his ass as he wiggled around in his arousal, desperation coloring his mind as he tried to reach his high. 

And yet he still could not reach his climax! 

Biting his lips, hips swinging, knot pulling on his rim then pushing further inside as he humped the vines twisting around his cock, toes curling and muscles pulling taut as he clenched tight in frustration...

With his squirming and clenching and jerking in his frantic seeking for relief, he squeezed the vine inside of him, inner walls pressing tight until he realized with a dull kind of horror that his insides started _squelching_ , that pressure exerted on it only wrung out more of what he was certain was Hell Goo. 

Tony groaned, jerking in his bonds as the slippery fluid started tingling on his inside, awakening nerves and sending lust burning through his veins with renewed urgency. 

He could feel some of it slipping through his caught open rim and dripping down his crack. He felt filthy, he felt manic, he felt desperate _and he needed to come, damn it!_  

He could barely hear through the blood pulsing in his ears, his mind driven completely incoherent with the constant stimulation assaulting his senses from all sides, until he felt a hand patting his flank, an anchor in the sea of need he was drowning in, and Tony grasped at it, tuning his attention back on his God and _finally_ making out the soft words and gentle hushing He was speaking to him. 

“Sssshhhh, my darling, breathe. Such a fuss you are making for such a tiny thing. It is merely stretching you, my dear, I am not so cruel as to make you take anything _in_ without proper preparation. Really sweetheart, what were you expecting?” 

The God tutted as Tony kept jerking and twisting in his coils, shudders wracking him as he alternately choked and gulped in air greedily. He felt everything like a landed fish, caught with the spear up his ass and left at the mercy of a fisherman who certainly sounded like he planned on eating him _raw_. It wasn’t a nice feeling. 

(It was the best feeling.) 

The God kept stroking him rhythmically, soothingly, his voice a dangerous melody, a siren song that was the only thing keeping him from drowning. 

“Ssshhh, ‘tis not even the width of a single finger at the moment. Breathe, Beloved, hush now, it wouldn’t be nearly as hard on you if you didn’t insist on squirming about so much, you realize? Sshhhhhh…” 

What Tony realized as he sobbed through a few breaths, guided by the steady hand caressing his flank and the soft words in his ear counting with him, was that his God was an unmitigated _bastard_ who took great pleasure in tormenting him and driving him crazy. 

Even if He was not _entirely_ evil. 

The amendment came as his breathing finally evened out, shuddering out of him as his overstimulated flesh struggled to find an equilibrium. 

It took even longer before Tony felt able to actually answer His smug ass, and when he did, he did not do it peacefully. 

“What... was I ...expecting? Nnnnot that, for one!” 

His voice came out more wrecked and less biting than he would have prefered, interspersed with panting breaths and gasps, but at least he had managed words, and he commended himself for the accomplishment. 

Words were _hard._  

Words weren’t the only thing that was hard. 

Tony trembled as the coil surrounding his cock tightened just a breath. He held his breath for a few more beats, holding still, _hoping_ , before realizing once more that no respite would come from there. 

He stopped struggling, stopped _moving_ , and just laid there boneless, breathing heavily as he… did nothing. He concentrated on the hand on his skin, the places were the ropes dug in, on the sticky slide of them against the goo, and slowly, slowly got used to the alien sensation of having his ass invaded, crammed full of something that felt particularly huge, somewhat alive, and definitely slippery. Slippery with the Hell Goo that had been torturing him for who knew how long. 

The burn was fading fast, his insides somehow getting used to the stretch, the touch hunger brought on by the goo before was appeased by the vine pressing tight against his walls, and all in all his predicament started to feel… pleasant. 

Tony started relaxing his muscles one by one, letting go of any lingering tension and feeling his weight sink into his living harness, feeling safe, cocooned as he was. 

The muscles of his ass loosened up as well, and his inner walls that had stayed clenched tight around the intrusion slowly released the pressure. 

It felt so good to just let go, unwinding. He felt like he could breathe more easily, his skin tingling nicely. The vine inside his ass stopped squirting quite so much goo, and started swelling… 

_Wait._  

Tony’s eyes popped open as he realized that the comfortable pressure inside him was slowly but surely becoming _less comfortable_. The rod skewering him kept getting bigger, larger, _longer_. It was saturating his insides, going beyond his limits, stretching him _more_ until he burned, he ached, _he yearned…_  

He let out a strangled sound as his back bowed, ass rising in the air as a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure flooded his veins. His lungs were burning, the world was shaking, it was too much! 

The _thing_ kept becoming wider and wider, and Tony clawed at the Earth, his bound arms getting no traction. It was too big, too wide, surely there was no more room inside! 

He didn’t have the strength to do more than shudder weakly, but at this point he didn’t know whether he would try to get away, or to push back. His senses were confused, _consumed_ by his all-encompassing need, his blood singing with the fluid that made his skin come alive.Everything in him was begging for release, desperate to finally be allowed relief from the soul shattering pleasure he’d been enduring for so long. 

His God had said He would let him come. 

...Just how big would this get? 

Tony started whining, clenching his eyes shut as tears mingled with the sweat rolling down his brow. His body was protesting the intrusion, the burn getting worse and worse as he was forced to accommodate the, _God, the literal stick up his ass_ as it kept dilating, growing, _bulging_.It _wasn’t stopping!_

He gulped frantic breaths as he scrambled to get away from the burning stretch, the impossible feeling of _too much too big too wide, away_ from the shaft filling him up, _still getting increasingly larger._

His wriggling only served to pull on his rim as the knot nestled inside him kept welling up while the part protruding out had  stayed the same. The insistent tugging started sending ripples of pleasure spinning through his senses as his pucker winked around the slick tendril. It was struggling to stay closed against the width of the swelling that was pulling against it and the globs of slippery goo spurting out.  

The more Tony tried to twist away, the more the bulge dragged at his rim, the hotter his blood ran through his veins, the louder it pulsed in his ears, in his cock, in his rear… 

He pulled at his arms, struggling, groaning, arching his back and panting, entirely shameless in his quest for relief. 

_God, he ached..._  

Just as it started becoming absolutely _unbearable_ , as he felt as though he was breaking apart, it sank deeper, reaching some parts that had been untouched until then, and started bearing down… 

Tony saw stars. He brain whited out for a moment as he shouted, lurching forward and tensing all over. 

Distantly, he felt the vine stop growing as he clenched up, and more of the burning fluid flooding inside him, seeping around his hole and pooling in the spot behind his balls. It only served to drive him more mad, his craving for _something_ even more insistent, and need clawed through him, vicious and unrelenting. 

His back bowed until his chest rose up from the ground, his hips humped the air frantically as he twisted himself up inside his net. He had completely lost himself in the flood of feeling, a bolt of pleasure igniting his senses and he was just there on the edge, his cock heavy and pulsing, his climax just a hairbreadth away… 

Tony stilled, waiting, tense, holding his breath… 

It wasn’t coming. _He_ wasn’t coming. 

Tony whimpered, thrashing around in confused frustration, sobbing with defeat, still _aching_ for the release that he had been denied. _Again._  

He hung limp, exhausted, sticky. Dripping with sweat and goo, skin still over sensitive, dick still throbbing but too wrecked to act upon it. His hole was still leaking Hell Goo, inner walls soaked with the thing, making everything in him pulse with need. His skin was radiating that _too-much-please-more_ kind of yearning, his rim quivering, burning in a not-quite-sore way, and he felt so drained he could barely care. He couldn’t even muster up enough energy to stop the tremors coursing through him or feel ashamed about the way his ass was on display before his God. 

As he slackened, his ass had loosened as well, and he realized with dread that the shaft had started swelling again. 

He just couldn’t win with this. 

It was too much, he couldn’t take it anymore, he was worn down, at the end of his rope, though apparently his God had plenty to spare. He needed a break damnit! 

To his horror, the vine kept growing larger and larger, sending conflicting signals of _too much_ and _so good_ pressure-against-flesh-oversensitized-by-goo burning. It pressed insistently against that spot, the one that made him see stars, bearing down until it started pulsing in answer, sending raw bolts of pleasure skittering through him. His nerves sparked, fanning his arousal back into the raging inferno that had ravaged through him with no outlet so many times already. His cock jerked up against his belly, valiantly spurting globs of precum, as though it would help him finally reach his climax. 

Tony trembled as he felt the vine twisting inside, knowing something would happen, knowing that it would only get (better) worse and the shaft pulled back, (dragging at his rim, God!) then _rammed_ back into him, straight into that spot. For the second time, Tony’s world went _white_ , everything muffled through the sheer ecstasy running through his veins, awful, awful rapture, that was just _not quite enough_ , even as it felt so very much too much. 

Tony had no more words. His throat hurt. He’d probably screamed out in his pleasure and yet he was still unfulfilled, his release denied to him once again. His entire body was shaking, trembling with the aftershocks, tears were leaking from the corner of his eyes and his hitching breaths catching on sobs. He could feel his cock still hard, ripples of pain-pleasure coursing through him each time it bumped against his belly, his rim still clenching over the rod impaling him, squelching through the goo, his balls drawn tight and aching. 

He was a wreck. 

He jumped when he felt a hand touch him, and it sent a cascade of contradictory feelings and reactions all over his body. Then the hand started stroking along his back, rhythmically moving along his spine and he tentatively relaxed into it, recognizing his God through the haze of need permeating his thoughts. 

Slowly, he came back down, desire receding back to a manageable level, his breathing evened out, and he stopped feeling as though his very _skin_ was too tight, as though the arousal inside him let heat radiate from his pores, and he was only a single raw nerve being tormented over and over _and over again._  

He felt worn but calm, his mind floating in a half consciousness that felt blissful. His body felt so far away, indistinct, unsubstantial. His world narrowed down to the hand pressing down on him, grounding him, anchoring him to this world. 

Then the hand scratched down his back, trailing fire in its wake and rousing Tony from his trance. 

He gasped back to consciousness, arousal still simmering in the background but focus now riveted on the God at his back. 

_The God, he realized, who was holding him in the precarious position he found himself in, completely vulnerable, trussed up, skewered and stuffed like game bird prepared for a feast._

_Who had pulled him back from his climax no less than twice in the last few moments._

He couldn’t find it in him to feel the slightest bit resentful about it, though he couldn’t deny being _miffed_ at the unfairness of it all. 

He had told him he would be able to come! 

The God chuckled, stroking soothingly at the skin he’d irritated. 

“Now, now, my darling. Do not pout so. I did tell you that you would only get your release once those Beads of yours had been stuffed in your lovely ass. But for that to happen, I need you to be patient and endure a bit more. Can you do that for me?” 

The words washed over him, reigniting the banked fire of his desperation. Tony shivered, shaking under the power lacing his God’s voice, so over sensitive that even such passive magic was overwhelming. 

Honeyed words. Right. 

Slowly _,_ he felt himself go lax, even through the rawness, the need, the _burn_. He let them wash over him, surrendering to the feeling, following the sound of his God’s voice and allowing its magic to seep to his bones. 

It felt like liquid sunlight. 

Not even used for persuasion. Just pure showing off, and being a tease. Bastard. 

The God fondled his ass, caressed his flanks, petting him gently. His skin was pulsing under His touch, craving His attention, and Tony shuddered, overwhelmed but pliant under the careful ministrations. 

(And maybe He was soothing him. Being the merciful God He was.) 

As he felt his muscles loosening, he took a bracing breath, expecting another round of torturous stretching, but instead of swelling up the rod started pulling back. The tug on his rim sent delicious shocks of pleasure through him, until Tony realized that _it kept moving,_  pushing back against his rim. He cried out as it just _forced him open,_ as his hole resisted against the sheer _width_ of the shaft that it was supposed to let through, _straining_ until it managed to extend wide enough to let the thickest part pop through with a gush of goo, and Tony sobbed at the feeling. 

His hole was _burning,_ spread too wide over the rod impaling him, he could feel his sensitive rim held open, taut, tense, _raw._ The shaft kept sliding through, stroking against him, at the same time tearing him wide open and _emptying him_. 

Tony was torn between the contradicting sensations, his senses going crazy as he shook through the experience, hanging helpless against the relentless assault. The retreat was just as jarring as the invasion had been and he felt so exhausted, shattered by the combination of the unfaltering flood of pleasure and the continued frustration of unfulfillment. 

Tears were dripping down his face, getting lost in the grass below, as his delirious twisting yanked on his abused hole and sent him careening straight back to the release he knew he wouldn’t get. His feverish mind screamed at him to get away, away from the edge, away from the desperation of being so close but unable to come, and his body translated the thought in a frantic struggle, jerking and wrenching against his bonds, sending more and more intense waves of sensation burning through him. 

The haze in his mind was thickening and his hips started moving on their own, pushing back on the rod before pulling away again, over and over, driving himself higher and higher. Obscene sounds were spilling freely from his ass, the squelching and squeaking of the slide, _back and forth, in and out_ , from the goo spurting out and dripping everywhere, but also from his lips, moans and pants and cries like he would have never believed himself capable of. 

He was entirely possessed by arousal, fucking himself back onto the rod and hedonistically thrusting with abandon, seeking his completion and even as a part of him dreaded the denial, it only drove him further into incoherence and desperation. 

The warm hands of his God took hold of his ass and stilled his movements. Tony whined and and squirmed in frustration as the rod kept sluicing out, the feeling alien but delightful, the emptiness it left behind a new form of torture. 

The immobility forced him to realize how vulnerable he was, exposed to his God’s scrutiny, his legs spread open and ass on display as his hole was still stretched wide over the rod, dripping precum.Tony felt an embarrassed blush coming over his face, and really? He could hump his vine without shame, but stop moving and he became self conscious? 

Firm hands kneaded his ass, thumbs pressing down, massaging then spreading apart his cheeks, leaving his hole winking in the open air and Tony shuddered at the intimacy of the gesture. He felt _naked._  

This was ridiculous. He’d been as good as naked since before his God even appeared! Why the sudden bout of shyness? Why now? 

Tony squirmed in discomfort as his God explored his intimacy, running curious fingers over sensitive skin, scratching lightly at his puffy distended rim, watching him jerk and flinch with what he was _sure_ was a sadistic sort of amusement. 

Tony closed his eyes in mortification. 

The shaft was almost gone now and he half hoped that was what his God was watching, instead of the way his body kept shaking with pleasure and over sensitivity, twitching at every touch, the way he couldn’t stop the sounds coming from his mouth, loud and lewd, the way the goo was spluttering from his ass in what felt like _globs_... 

His hole was fluttering around the vine, shying away from the questing digits. Honestly, Tony wished he could do the same. 

“You are so beautiful like this Anthony, lost in passion, trusting and desperate…” 

Tony paused at that. The words were full of a quiet sort of awe, and suddenly his God’s actions were colored with a different light, His leisurely path felt reverent, His curiosity felt like fascination, His roaming hands felt enamoured and Tony was suddenly certain that his God cherished him more than anything, which he knew already (he’d known for a long time), and that He would never judge him in his pleasure. 

He felt a little silly for doubting at all, but at the same time a tight knot in his chest unfurled and he felt his own love for his God, _his man_ , flushing his face with a need that had nothing to do with lust. 

He felt tempted, just for a second, to give him what he wanted right away, sealing their bond with a sharing of True Names, but he didn’t want to give up their game. He knew his God would be happy either way, but since He was teaching him about delayed gratification, well they were both enjoying themselves weren’t they? 

The hands kept trailing over his skin, the vines shifting to accommodate their course as He went. Their path ignited with warmth and it only made the following cold even starker, raising goosebumps on sweat-drenched and goo-slicked skin. They crawled around his hips to his belly, scratching the sensitive flesh as he went and Tony could only cry out and squirm as his cock twitched desperately. 

His God chuckled at that and glided His hands back over to his ass, giving it a firm squeeze that made Tony wriggle with delight, before slipping them down to his inner thighs, fondling them as He massaged the tenseness out, until Tony melted in His grasp. 

The nails teasingly scraping up the delicate flesh shocked him back to attention, especially when they moved up, scratching at his pucker just as the shaft finally popped out with a gush of goo, dousing his crack and balls with the stuff, slicking down his thighs and dripping down his cock. 

Tony let out a guttural groan as his rim fluttered around thin air for a second before swiftly furling back onto itself, sealing him tightly and stopping the flood pouring out of his ass. He moaned in distress as the Hell Goo started making his skin burn with need all over again, his insides crying out for something to fill him back up, needing the weight and pressure to soothe the craving in his veins. The skin of his legs and ass was tingling, pulling at his attention, _it felt too tight_ , too warm. 

The emptiness inside felt weird, now that he’d grown used to having something opening him up, the goo was still sloshing inside but there was nothing to clench around, nothing to press that spot inside him. His rim felt puffy and oversensitive, especially as it had been macerated in goo for so long. His God was playing with it, thumbing at it, and it sent Tony in a frenzy, every nerve sparking with the intensity of lightning repeatedly coursing through his veins and pooling in his belly, down his cock… 

Tony jerked his hips, half in reaction to the the pleasurable torture, half to get away from more of his God’s relentless teasing. 

It was useless, of course, as the God simply used one hand to steady his hips while the other thumbed hard at the spot just behind his balls. Tony realized absentmindedly that it was one of the spots where the most goo had pooled since it formed a convenient cradle for it to well up, a background burn that he’d been easily ignoring before the bolt of pleasure ravaged him. He convulsed as everything inside him came alive with the ruthlessness of all encompassing ecstasy. 

Everything became white hot, liquid lava in his veins, his lungs burning, _everything_ _too much,_ so much that he had to _scream it out_ as he felt his body dissolving under the onslaught. The hands on his skin were the only thing that felt real anymore, as they played with him, as they teased and tormented his most sensitive places. 

The God was unrelenting, even before the distress of his Beloved, unmoved by his continuous wails and the gulping sobs, as He subjected him to more excruciating stimulation, pressing hard then caressing, before pinching and scratching and tugging, then soothing the skin again. 

He was _playing_ with him, driving him crazy as he kept trashing, struggling to get away from the harsh treatment and the too pleasurable touches, but He easily held him still with one hand. The realization was enough to send _another_ bolt of lust straight to his cock before his mind went blank as his God started fondling then squeezing his balls. 

Tony’s scream garbled into a frantic keen as he clenched all over, trying to curl up and protect his defenseless privates as wave after wave of delightful agony washed over him, pulsed inside his cock and burned inside his ass. His balls were two hot coals inside his God’s palm, so tender and sensitive as He spinned them and pulled on them and pressed them together, making a game of the suffering He was putting him through. 

Everything disappeared but the pulsing feeling in his veins and the blissful anguish forced upon him by his cruel _cruel_ God. 

Then the God let them go with one last fond squeeze and a chuckle, _the bastard,_ leaving them to hang. Tony desperately gasped for air, breaths shaky and wet, but the cool air burning through his lungs cleared his mind a little. His poor innocent balls were still throbbing, pulsing with heat and lingering pleasure, shivering as they were left exposed in the contrastingly freezing breeze, but the feeling was manageable and he actually was able to recover enough wits to pay attention to the rest of his body. 

His blood was pounding in his ears, his entire body drained to bonelessness, liquid hell still leaking from his clenched hole, oversensitive skin shivering with need, the steady, _heady_ burn of arousal running through his veins, ensnaring his senses… 

Yup, nothing new. Still driven to absolute madness by the resident sadist. 

And as he felt his God’s soft fingertips brushing along his exposed crack, a couple of very thin vines slid along to pull his asscheeks apart, and Tony couldn’t tell if his groan was one of dread or anticipation. It certainly seemed to amuse his God if the low snickers were of any indication, and it certainly didn’t stop Him from poking around his hole, or gleefully thumbing at it. 

With a mock-contemplative hum, He _popped_ His fingertip inside then _popped it out,_ letting great globs of Hell Goo spurt out. Tony could just _feel,_ as he jerked each time and moans started spilling from his throat again, that his moment of clarity wasn’t meant to last. 

And indeed, his God appeared to be having great fun with this nonchalant kind of torture, hooking his thumb in and pulling on the abused rim before letting it snap back, bathing it in the surrounding goo, flicking, and pressing and rubbing and scratching against it. Soon enough Tony was an incoherent, desperate mess again, whining and crying, jolting at each soft touch and lurching at each harsh one, half choked pleas escaping from his mouth as the onslaught drove him higher and higher in rapture, and yet his cock was in agony, crying for a release that would not, _could not_ come… 

“Well, you are still quite a bit tight but it shouldn’t be more than a mild burn, so I suppose I can use the beads now. Unless you have something to tell me?” 

Tony let out a garbled moan, followed by a whimper as his hands spasmed around the grass. 

_Bastard. Yes. Words. Those were a thing, weren’t they?_  

A soft slap against the flesh of his ass snapped him back to reality, the burn shocking him back into the present. The fading pain only fed the storm of _need_ coursing through him, the warmth pooling in his belly and the agony in his cock, but Tony was used to those, and he could recognize a challenge when it was thrown, and he never backed down from a challenge. Not even naked, half delirious from pleasure with someone poking through his asshole. 

Especially not then. 

(And if he was grateful that his God was thoughtful enough to regularly check on his well-being and give him an out, well no one would have to know. Of course, He was a complete dick about it, an absolute teasing bastard who took great enjoyment in his misery, but, _He cared_.) 

So, as impertinently as he could make it with his voice scraped to hell and his throat made of sandpaper, he threw down his _own_ gauntlet. 

“I told you, my God, _I do not have Your Name._ ” 

Speaking such a lie was a blasphemy of its own, of course. To Give One’s True Name was a sacred thing that could only be done _once_ , and denying the knowledge was _mean,_ he knew that. 

His God knew that he knew that. He also knew how much Tony valued the gift of his God’s trust. He also knew _why_ he was denying Him right then. 

Because He started it. But Tony would finish it. 

And they would both enjoy themselves in the process. If Tony survived what the God had in store. 

(Because this was a game, one with high stakes and no way to lose, if he could only hang on for the ride.) 

This was his way of reassuring Him that he was still well and still game. That he still trusted his God. _No matter what._  

Of course, He knew of his play, and He had His own, but they performed together to the tune of the same song, and they _did_ want the same thing in the end. 

So His God caressed his ass, soothing the cheek He’d slapped, the warm strokes a reward and an erotic threat all wrapped up in one. A devious huff of laughter was breathed against his skin, full of satisfaction and mirthful schemings. 

“I suppose we will just have to see if that’s true won’t we, _Anthony_?” 

Truth. Lies. As if his God didn’t know already. 

As if Tony hadn’t offered Him his soul, and with it a foothold in his will. 

(As if his God hadn’t done the same.) 

“I guess we will.” 

At least, even when Tony felt completely wrecked, he still had his bravado to fall back on. That, and his apparently _depraved_ mind, because the shiver that just coursed through him was definitely one of anticipation. Or dread. Though at this point, who could tell them apart anyway? 

Feeling the bead pressing against his hole cleared up the doubts. 

Definitely dread. 

With growing apprehension Tony realized just how wide the bead actually was, especially compared to the rod that had just left his ass. It was easily twice as big, and he remembered with a strange kind of horror how he’d found it _small_ when he first saw it. Now that it was pressing against his crack, pushing against the sides of his asscheeks, they definitely felt large enough. Alarmingly large in fact. 

Way too large for a hole that had felt split open with something that was barely as wide as the smallest bead. 

Tony had the faintest thought to feel grateful that his God hadn’t taken him up to the challenge of making them actually _bigger_ , then he remembered that it was Him actually pressing them against his ass, and he didn’t feel quite so grateful anymore. 

(Then he remembered who had provoked Him in the first place, and, as justified as it was, still cursed himself to the pits of Tartarus. And praised his genius.) 

The cool and smooth touch of the jade was a stark contrast against his burning skin, jarring, emphasizing its shape as it slid along the cleft. 

Tony gulped, his breath quickening as trepidation slowly overcame arousal. His vulnerability only emphasized his helplessness against the coming assault against his poor hole. Those beads that he’d known most of his life, taken comfort from, gotten to know intimately (but definitely not that intimately) _..._ suddenly became ominous, threatening. 

When the slippery jade started rubbing against his puffy rim, Tony balked. With a strangled gasp, he lurched away, his heart beating a frantic staccato resonating through his bones as his feet kicked as far as they could from the vines’ hold. 

If Tony had to be honest (if he were in his right mind) he would admit that his struggles were pitifully inefficient and probably not too different from the previous ones and yet, like each time he’d panicked before, the God stopped His games and somehow managed to soothe his worries. 

He stroked along his spine then started carding His fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and tugging. The netting of vines tightened again, bonds pressing into his skin all over his body in a way that made him feel safe and comforted. He noted absentmindedly that his body was well supported and safe to stay in this ridiculous position for as long as his God deemed necessary. 

Strangely, the thought was soothing. His God knew what He was doing. He knew how to make him feel comfortable and He had known how big the beads would be for him and He had made sure that he was comfortable still. He had stopped. He would stop again. Tony was safe in His hands. 

His breath slowed, the trepidation quieting down until he was once again pliant in his God’s hold. He was submitting to His will, leaving Him free reign over his body. Tony had agreed to this game, he knew how to stop it, he was safe to just… let go. 

His mind went syrupy soft, serenely listening to the soft encouraging words of his God and basking in the affection that shined through His touch. Tony purred as he heard Him speaking of His fondness for him and His trust in his capabilities. He could feel his mind soaking in the gentle praise and careful comfort, his body loosening and heating back up with simmering arousal. 

When the God was certain that Tony was perfectly calm and steadily breathing, He tugged lightly on his hair to get his attention. 

“Do you still want to go through with it?” 

There was no judgment in His voice, no pressure, just the soft concern of a lover. 

The obvious care and the infinite patience made something warm glow in Tony’s chest. His God knew how to make him feel precious and cherished, there was nothing new with that. He’d been doing it in dreams for most of his life, though this was the first time that it appeared in a sexual context. 

And yet it was still empowering as ever, and even as helplessly bound and exposed as he was, he felt strangely strong and comfortable in his submission. He was the center of his God’s world, the entire focus of His attention. He was exactly where he wanted to be. 

Knowing that he was the most important thing to his God felt good. 

It also gave him the irrepressible need to… misbehave. Just in order to prove that he was fine! Or maybe because he liked mouthing off. If only to keep the game going. 

(Honestly, he just couldn’t help himself.) 

“I believe that I told You already, my God. I do not know that Name. Must I repeat myself again?” 

His throat was still scratchy and raw and there was still a dreamy, lust-drunk drag to his words, but otherwise his voice was remarkably steady. 

All things considered. 

There was an impish note to them, a teasing ring that came out loud and clear that certainly would do nothing to help his credibility, but at this point he wasn’t even trying. The God would never believe such a blatant lie anyway, didn’t believe it from the start. 

Tony never wanted Him to anyway. But to poke fun at Him? At the game they were playing? At himself for starting it? 

This was a shared moment of fun. This was proving his trust in his God and raising the stakes. 

This was showing Him exactly what he would get if He bonded with him, what He was signing for if He went on this course. 

The silence rang heavy between them, filled with the God’s surprised mirth, then one of His low chuckles, filled with dark promises that made his belly clench with _want_ and the kind of jitters he got when he started to wonder whether he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew. 

Tony realized he would have to get used to that feeling now that he’d actually met his God face to face. 

“Well then, do let me know if you actually change your mind, sweetheart. Any time.” 

The shark smile he could hear in that voice told him loud and clear that his God hadn’t been scared off by his continued irreverence, nor would He be. 

And He’d apparently decided to _keep_ him. 

Tony shivered as he felt the smooth jade slide along his crack, but this time he was not scared anymore. The God would stop if it ever became too much (at least more unbearably _too much_ than he’d already been through anyway), and he’d given _Tony_ the means to make everything stop as well. 

Telling Him what He wanted would stop everything “any time”. 

Tony would only need to speak his God’s True Name to make everything stop, and just knowing that, knowing he had the power to make everything stop whenever he wanted, made him feel safe. 

It was certainly more reassuring than blind faith in his asshole’s ability to stretch open beyond what any sane or even reasonable person would expect and _take that bead in_ , and then _the others afterwards._

Tony shivered again, moaned. The God laughed. 

He sounded jubilant and proud and pleased. 

God, Tony loved that bastard. 

And He sure loved torturing him… 

Arousal was pulsing in his loins, an incandescent brand that offset the steady warmth of his love for the God. It pulled at his attention until he could _see_ it in his mind, a raging inferno that was only temporarily tamed. 

Then the too large bead was pressing against his slippery rim, bearing down against his crack, rubbing, sliding, worrying at his sensitive pucker. The jade sphere was so much wider than the ring of muscle, _so goddamn much_ , Tony had no idea how it would even pass through. 

It was pushing down on the surface of his skin, rubbing through the wet gooey mess and spreading it around as the bead grounded onto his hole, and the blazes of want violently rekindled within him. 

His dick jerked up, a white hot pulse of desire throbbing deeply. His veins lit up with the familiar beat of _want-need-touch_ and _too-much-too-sensitive_ of his denied release. Each press against his puffy abused rim sent blistering need skittering through him and Tony’s breath hitched on a litany of breathless gasps as his mind descended back into the foggy spiral of excruciating bliss and desperation. 

And yet, somehow, with the hand of his God slowly caressing his backside then pulling his asscheeks even further apart, he remembered the promise He’d made, that his release would come when the beads were inside him. 

His breath stopped for a moment, hope mixing with anticipation in his belly. The idea that he would finally, _finally,_ find his climax was so foreign, overwhelming, _but no, not yet, not just yet..._ but maybe… _soon_. 

He held tight to that idea as he took a bracing breath before relaxing his body bit by bit until he was hanging limp. Tremors wracked his frame as he did, aching arousal and lingering exhaustion protesting against this surrender but Tony only found comfort in it, an all encompassing peace. 

The restraints remained tight, not uncomfortably but in a way that made it impossible for him to move the slightest bit. They held his hips still enough for his intermittent trembling not to shake his butt, and as he felt his pucker slowly opening under the bead pressing steadily against it, he could only be grateful. 

Violent twitches would _not_ be a good idea at the moment. 

His answering shiver was once again thankfully stopped before it dislodged the jade and Tony breathed deeply, forcefully releasing the tension in his limbs and concentrating on loosening his hole. 

The feeling was incredibly strange, comparing to the immediate burn of the vine piercing through him earlier, this time he could feel his body slowly yielding against an irrepressible grinding. The stretching burn was worsening little by little as his rim slowly extended to accommodate the intrusion. It started swallowing it up, opening up greedily, hugging it closely and _stretching,_ more, and more, _and_ _more_ until it reached what tony guessed was the halfway point, the widest part of the sphere sinking into him, and his God left it there, spreading him wide around it. 

Tony let out a guttural groan. It _burned,_ his rim opened too wide, wider than he’d ever been, and he was held there in this impossible predicament, and yet he relished in it. Feeling the strain, _enduring_ , his control holding by a thread as he waited for his God’s move, at His mercy, bound to His will, to His whims… 

His God leaned over him, humming with pleased concentration as he started rolling the bead around slowly one way then the other. He then popped it in just enough for the rim to start closing over the widest part before slowly pulling, catching on the rim for a moment, dragging it up before it _stretched_ and let the bead slide out again… until He pushed it back in again… and pulled it away _again_ …. 

Tony was tangled in the throes of blissful agony with each switch, his shallow pants echoing loudly through the empty clearing as the intensity burned the air from his lungs, his aborted movements stopped by the vines restraining him. 

Again the bead shifted, the widest part slipping in wetly then shifting out of his hole, keeping the rim stretched taut as the main part of the bead rolled inside of him then back out… over and over… 

In and _push_ , pull and _drag_ away, then stretch and _burn_ , squelch and push back in, _burn..._  

Slowly he lost all sense of reality as the sensations battering him from all sides overwhelmed what little self control he had recovered. Short, cut-off screams of rapture escaped his lips in a litany of agonizing pleasure. 

Tony was going crazy. 

His entire attention centered around his ass and the prayer bead held in that in between place that drew his rim wide open, until he was wrecked by the constant strain. He was on the edge, never knowing how it would move or when. The anticipation was making everything more acute, his senses heightened trying to follow the moves of the _sadist_ playing with his ass through the roaring of blood in his ears. 

His God was _strumming_ his rim, each pluck echoed through his body, and pulsed straight through his cock. The restraints were still tightly holding him, and as much as he tried to struggle, he was unable to do anything but hang on and _take it_ while He drove him higher and higher, drowning him with excruciating ecstasy until he was feverish and trembling all over. 

His muddled mind cleared for a moment as lips caressed his ear, his God’s voice coming in sharp focus through his haziness, washing over him like a balm and anchoring him back to his body. 

“This is your first prayer, darling. Do you know which Virtue it stands for?” 

Tony groaned, incredulous. 

His insides were still begging to be filled, the magical fluid making everything burn with want, desperately needing touch even knowing it would only make everything _worse,_ the burn of being forced open, the burn of need, the pleasure even more intense, more desire, more desperation... 

Tony whined in frustration. 

Was his God really expecting him to talk right now? 

“Tell me, sweet, else it stays here. I have all the time in the world after all.” 

Apparently He was absolutely serious with His threat. The bead wasn’t moving anymore, just a slight pull on the rim at random intervals and a few twists that made him cry out, but nothing that felt _fulfilling_ , nothing that soothed the burn or made it rise up enough to reach his ever so elusive high. 

He was on the edge, everything was on edge, the bead trying to force its way in, and yet at the same time pulling back. His rim stretched to the limit of _too much,_ trying to swallow it whole and never letting go, but at the same time straining against the intrusion, spread open, _torn apart._  

He was _aching_ for his climax but never reaching it, never allowed to fall over that fucking edge _,_ and yet never allowed to come down either. 

On the edge, alert, unable to guess where the next onslaught on his senses would come from, where his God would strike next, what would be the next torture to send him spiraling down to agonizing bliss...

With a certain amount of exasperated dread, Tony realized he was having a glimpse of the kind of tightrope a life with his God would be. 

So he scrambled for his composure, because he couldn’t hold out much longer, and something _would_ have to give at one point, and he doubted it would be his God’s composure, or His wrist, all things considered. Things like the huge sphere halfway through his ass. 

Anyway, no matter _how_ he would get down, anything would be a relief at this point. 

If it took a few breaths and gasps before he managed to choke out a halfway coherent answer, well maybe his God would learn some amount of consideration for his state, when asking him for intelligent conversation. Or even words at all. 

Words were _hard._  

“Truth!” 

A long gurgling moan interrupted him, and it took a few more minutes before he successfully did _words_ again, stringing them together in something that made sense. (Sort of.)

“It’s Truth! It’s the bead Virtue of Truth!”

It was nigh on unintelligible, but it seemed to be enough for his God. The bead started sinking in again, his rim straining over the widest part just once more before the heavy weight of the jade settled just a bit deeper inside. Not entirely though, He was still holding him stretched open, pulling intermittently on the pearl and making him see stars as his pucker struggled to close over it and push it fully inside. 

“You’re such a good boy, my darling. Now, tell me, do you happen to know why it is so much larger than it was at first?”

Tony didn’t know and really couldn’t bring himself to care, and that was entirely His fault. 

Especially as the God’s other hand had started teasing his rim as it was pulled tight around the pearl and the tautness of the muscle was making it _so much more sensitive_ to the vibrations that his God was torturing him with, small flicks of His fingers, slow pulls dragging it up from the inside, scratches and tugs and rubs...

A single nail scraped along the place where jade met flesh, teasing the pucker stretched thin around the circumference. 

Tony _screamed_ , legs tensing, back bowing as he felt his blood ignite. 

It was driving him crazy, and he wasn’t even able to turn the buildup of feelings into more movement, the restraints leaving him unable to twist away or in any way escape from the assault. Not even a tremble could move his ass from where it was held in place and while his back could bend, the tension scorching his blood demanded that he _move_ , that he swing back on the pearl and push it in, that he get away from that merciless tease, that he did something, anything, and preferably something to give his poor dick some friction. 

Tony wanted more, _needed_ more. 

The burning juice he’d been coated with was starting to burn with even more intensity and he realized with some detached kind of horror that his inner walls had been _soaked_ with it and there had been a truly impressive amount of the stuff _inside_ him. 

Tony had almost forgotten about it, but his renewed arousal ignited it until he felt like white hot fire coursing down his spine, twisting through his veins and pooling lava down his belly.  It burned the air from his lungs and made the places suffering through his God’s attentions _sing_. 

This was Tartarus. (This was Valhalla.) 

Tony sobbed, a few wet inhales stolen in between his desperate screams.

He would get no relief as long as he did not answer. 

The God had better not expect anything comprehensible, because, as much as he might want to, Tony truly didn’t believe himself capable of it.

“Don’t know m’God. Y’said I was lying?”

His incoherent string of words got him a laugh and a fond pat on his butt, and Tony already dreaded being asked for anything more understandable. 

However, his God was apparently feeling merciful (Hah!) since He didn’t make him repeat himself and just pushed the bead _all the way in,_ his poor abused rim closing gratefully over the soft rod keeping the beads together and sealing the pearl tightly inside. 

It felt huge inside of him, pressing against his walls, making him burn from the inside out and stealing what was left of his breath. 

And Tony felt so stuffed already, but it was still not enough, never quite enough, and wasn’t that a familiar predicament, being torn between feeling _too full_ and _needing more still?_

But it begged the question, how would he possibly be able to survive eight more? 

“It was a good guess, sweetheart, but it is rather the opposite.” 

Tony whined, uncomprehending. This was too much brain power to ask of someone who had something crammed inside their ass after being teased and kept from coming for what certainly felt like _hours_. 

The God chuckled darkly as He twisted the beads, and then waited until Tony stopped screaming before putting His lips to his ear. 

“You called your God a liar, my love, and in itself this is not an issue. However, as my Beloved, it is _your_ duty to make up for my failings. That means you have to compensate for where I am remiss, doesn’t it? Then, you must be more... _truthful_ than any others.”

Wait, what? 

“Inflating this bead was only my way to encourage you in this endeavor.”

Of all the self satisfied, arrogant, dastardly...

Tony’s chest shook, with humor and outrage both, as his absolute _bastard_ of a God managed to pin this whole mess on him, and present himself _somehow_ as this benevolent and _helpful_ entity. 

What a bullshit excuse to find more ways to torture him. 

Bastard. 

The expletive was fond. It just figured. His God had always been one to twist the facts in His favor, no matter how ridiculous or far fetched. It even worked most of the time. Tony should probably feel thankful that it was so harmless. 

Tony _wasn’t_ thankful. He was amused. He also felt damn competitive. Suddenly the weight of the jade inside of him wasn’t such an impossible task to bear, but instead just one more move in their game of chicken, and Tony never backed down from a challenge. 

Perhaps that was what his God intended to spark inside him when He spoke. 

He’s always known him well. 

Tony breathed deeply, a shark smile pulling at his lips. If he wanted to keep up with the game, he had best keep his wits. Especially as the God had the double advantage of being the one holding the beads and not having them up His ass. Triple if he counted the Hell Goo. 

Actually, with the odds so stacked against him, it was a good thing that he wasn’t actually planning on winning. His God had definitely rigged the game in His favor. 

God, he loved that bastard. 

That was terribly flattering, and somehow sweet, that He would cheat so much just to insure that Tony would indeed belong to Him. And yet, He’d left him so many opportunities to get away, letting him know that He would only accept him willing, aware, and enthusiastically wanting Him as much as he was wanted himself. 

And while Tony had been frustrated at the lengths He had gone to in order to ascertain that it _really_ was his own will that made him accept, that he was _truly_ giving his _informed_ consent… he was still grateful for it. He knew not every Beloved had such luck. And no one ever had a relationship akin to the one he had with his Deity. 

For one, _they_ never knew who their gods were until they met.

(Tony couldn’t imagine what that would be like, to live without his God’s voice in his ear, pointing out the flaws in his teachers’ reasoning, telling him the true stories behind the myths he’d learned, sharing tricks and jokes, bestowing advice, and praise… 

Actually he could imagine, that was why he was so mad at Him.)

Taking stock of his body, Tony realized that he’d somehow grown used to the stretch inside of him. The burn was getting more and more bearable, until it simply became a persistent twinge that he was definitely able to think through. So long as his God stopped teasing him and twisting the beads around, that was.  

He still felt stuffed, the jade was heavy, unyielding, and the feeling of _anything_ inside was still completely alien, but his inner walls had been coated in goo until it had seeped through and ignited his insides with need. Tony whined, it felt as though the emptiness was a torment of its own, tearing him apart. 

But he could come now. 

The thought struck him, distractingly insistent.

...Technically he did have a bead inside him already. 

The God carded His fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. Tony’s eyes rolled back into his head as he groaned, the sweet burn across his scalp a blissful counterpoint to the burning stretch inside him.

“Comfortable?” 

Tony smiled, eyes still closed. The inquiry was genuine, he knew, but damn if the condescending croon wasn’t absolutely infuriating. It definitely made him want to be just as much of a mischievous little shit as his God was being at the moment. 

“Yes, my God. Very much.”

The God laughed. 

“That’s good, my dear. Do you think you can take the next one?”

Tony paused at this. Somehow he hadn’t expected to be asked. Then again, maybe he should have, his God had certainly been careful enough to insure his comfort before that point. 

And yet, actually agreeing, almost asking for the next bead felt…. different, strange. A huge step that should not be this hard. And yet wouldn’t it mean admitting to his own desire? To his enjoyment of the storm of feelings he was being subjected to? 

And yet, this was still a challenge, a dare, and as Tony never could resist a dare, he couldn’t _not agree._

And if he remembered correctly (and he did of course), the next bead was barely half the size of the one he’d just taken in. Somehow, knowing that, it felt much less intimidating.

(Though, admittedly, he was perhaps feeling a tad bit overconfident with this)

So, brazenly, knowing he could trust his God not to take him actually beyond his limits (or _too far_ beyond them at least) he proclaimed: 

“I can take anything You can dish out, my God!”

His God hummed in pleasure, a smooth hand caressed along his spine, and gave a few more gentle tugs at his hair. He brought a smile against his ear.

“I know you can, my sweet.”

Tony was almost purring at the gentleness and the trust in the words, at the implied approval of the one who had the most faith in him. 

He’d missed this. 

“What’s the next one darling, do you know?”

It took a second before Tony worked out what the God was talking about. 

He was back to asking about the beads. Namely the one that would end up in his ass next. 

As it happened Tony _didn’t_ know. 

The beads _did_ have a particular order, but depending on which way He went from the first one, _Truth_ , one could either get either Honor or Discipline… And he hadn’t paid attention to that part when he’d had it before his eyes. He’d been concentrating on other things instead, like the size of the beads, the length of the rod, its flexibility, _and even the color of the goo!_

But not which Virtue was represented in which order. 

To be honest, Tony still felt that these were the right priorities to have (even though he realized that his basis of comparison for size was… flawed. Definitely) _._ However, he was now in a pickle. What would he answer his God with? 

Especially since not answering usually had consequences. 

So Tony nervously bit his lips, hesitating and shifting his weight.

The God laughed, amused, and dragged his nails along the flesh of his ass. 

Along the thin sensitive line where buttocks became thigh. 

Tony cried out as He started drawing trails of fire along his inner thigh, then going up, _up,_ so close to where he wanted his touch...

But it was denied to him again.

Tony clenched up against the blissful pain, muscles tensing under his God’s fingers. His body bore the tease, anticipation twisting in his belly, a strange mixture that blended want into dread. 

His cock throbbed as it begged for stimulation. 

Tony _knew_ that this time he was allowed to come, he could clearly feel the sphere inside of him, it’s breadth thrown in sharp relief as his inner walls squeezed it tightly. His clenched ass had locked it inside as his rim tightened in the crook between the two much larger beads.  

And yet, he just _couldn’t come_ , he was stuck, unable to reach his high. He needed more, more, _more_. 

“You don’t know, sweetheart? That’s fine I can tell you if you ask me very nicely.”

Tony groaned at the sadistic God he was stuck with. He’d entirely forgotten about that conversation. 

Though, to be fair, the God was being just a little bit distracting. 

He supposed he would still have to answer. 

Except that his air was already used up for incoherent screaming, and gasping, and did he mention his God was a bastard? 

Pleas rang through his mind as he got lost in the storm of feelings, desperation making him want to actually _beg_. 

Tony never begged but this was his God so it should be fine, right? 

Maybe his mind wasn’t exactly able to process information all that well anymore. Especially as his God kept trailing long slow burning lines of pleasure over his body. 

The skin that had been brought aflame by the Hell Goo _reignited_ until he was immolated on the pyre of his pleasure. His cock ached, untouched still, and Tony sobbed as his body tensed, desperate but helpless, unable to do anything more against the onslaught. 

“Pl’z, God, please!”

Tony weeped, chest trembling, ass still held firmly, raised up and exposed for his God’s pleasure. He felt so damn vulnerable...

Long fingers stroked along his thighs, soothingly, _almost_ apologetically as the god hummed in his ear. 

“You’re being such a good boy Anthony, taking everything so well for your God.” 

Tony gasped, pleasure and warmth flooding him as the praise reached him through the inferno. It gave him the strength and determination to do well, to get through to the end of the game… and maybe make his god proud. 

(His God was already proud.)

There were now burning lines of pulsing heat all over his body, marks of his God’s touch, reminders of the boundaries of his own body. 

“I will tell you then, since you are being so good.”

The hand ran along his spine and curled around the back of his neck, fingers cradling his jaw.

“This is the Virtue of Honor my sweet, and you have always been so very honorable haven’t you?”

The new pearl was pressed harshly against his protesting rim, pushing at the tender skin. The rod twisted, making the bead inside him spin and the next one rub along the puffy abused pucker. 

Tony whined, as the new bead started bearing down on him, dragging the skin around his hole down until it was taut. His already speared through hole had to extend even _more_ to make room for the next bead. He moaned as it started slowly stretching again, opening under the steady pressure, and as the second one started slipping through, the one inside kept sinking even deeper. His inner walls were burning, the stretch and the need indistinguishable from one another. 

“I remember you questioning every story you were told, looking at it from every angle before forming your opinion.” 

Tony prayed for strength. 

Why did his god wait to talk to him until he was an incoherent mess, held on the edge of orgasm, with his hole wide open around torture implements that He’d designed especially for him?

“God _why_?”

The God laughed, hand caressing his brow softly, tenderly. He was very entertained by the half slip and the snarky prayer.

“You are my Beloved and yet it appears that I made you doubt my love for you darling. I am… sorry that my absence grieved you so. That I made you doubt.”

Tony stared.

His God never acknowledged His mistakes, or the ones who’d been hurt through His actions.  No god did, in fact. Tony rather thought that this was the reason their tales were so rife with drama and tragedy. 

And yet he had done just that. For him.

A soft kiss was pressed along his temple, full of sincerity and care. Tony’s eyes watered for a reason that had nothing to do with overstimulation as a wounded, doubting, _vulnerable_ part of him that he’d refused to acknowledge was finally soothed.  

“My God… You came back, though. That was enough.”

Even as he said it, Tony knew it wouldn’t be accepted. He could still feel that wound inside his heart from those months he’d spent expecting his God’s voice and having only echoing emptiness answer him. He could still feel ripples of grief, the absence of something he’d taken for granted, the moments he turned, expecting to feel his God’s presence and yet finding nothing. 

It was like a gaping hole inside his chest, carved out by the God’s absence, as though everything that He’d helped him build had just caved in when He’d left.

“My darling, it will never be enough until I prove to you without the shadow of a doubt that you are my chosen companion and worthy of the distinction. I will keep going until you actually _agree_ with it.” 

Tony paused for a few seconds without understanding what the god implied. 

“Wait you mean each Virtue…?”

He could hear the self satisfied smile in the God’s voice, something almost cruel in its tenderness, a devilish pleasure at the alarm in Tony’s words.

“I will show you how you embody each of those Virtues in a way that pleases me, and for each bead that you take in, you will have to agree that you fulfill it more than satisfactorily.” 

Tony let out a pitiful keen at the thought, dread and want mixing in his belly as his traitorous mind started visualizing just _what_ his god was planning... 

“You realize this is a form of torture right? 

Now the God sounded offended. Not irate, not quite hurt, but definitely piqued. 

The feeling appeared light hearted, almost as though it could still be laughed off, but Tony knew better. Even the worst things could be turned into a joke for Him, but it never made them hurt less. It just gave an unconcerned facade that threw off people enough to keep Himself safe. 

“You doubted me!”

Aaah yes that would do it. One could not just doubt their god without some form of retaliation. 

Without _breaking faith._

“You doubted yourself.”

Grief came back to His voice, a mournful and gentle note that rang through the morning air with infinite misery. 

Tony felt inexplicably sad, and he would have done _anything_ to make this somber tune never ring through his God’s voice again. 

He realized belatedly that this permeating melancholy was _for him_ , for those times he’d wondered _why_ he wasn’t good enough, what he’d done to drive his god away. Those moments he’d hated himself for squandering the best thing that had ever happened to him and taking his God for granted.

He’d never used The Name of course, even though it would call Him to his side. He’d never force his will on the one he loved like that. 

He’d thrived instead, forged himself an empty life that never fulfilled him until he hightailed back to the monastery. He’d been hoping to _fix it_ somehow, thinking that maybe he’d done enough to prove himself for his God to come back.  

Though he realized now that perhaps he hadn’t needed to prove anything, beyond his ability to know his own mind. 

He couldn’t bring himself to regret his path, the things he’d learned, accomplished by himself, for himself. But he knew now that his God had never wanted to hurt him, never intended for him to doubt their bond and somehow… It made things easier. 

A hard knot of anger and grief got loose inside his chest and tears blazed down his cheeks as bone deep relief washed through him. Not even the prospect of being tortured into feeling self worth could extinguish the peace that had enveloped his heart.  

Soothingly, his God carded His fingers through his hair until the last of his sobs had passed, shushing him softly. A tender kiss was pressed against his temple as a particularly loud sob shook through him. 

A hand started stroking his flank as Tony took a few trembling breaths, trying to settle his wild emotions. He felt worn out, limp with the strange kind of emptiness that came with emotional release. 

“I missed you.”

The words barely went over a whisper, breathed in with the thrum of heartache and wet with tears.

There was a long silence before a long mournful sigh reached his ear, another kiss brushing against his temple.

“I know my darling, I am sorry.” 

Tony scrambled for something to say, to move on from such a depressing topic. He _had_ to show his God that He was forgiven, that it was the past, water under the bridge, that He was here now, He’d come back, He wouldn’t leave again... 

That he loved Him and didn’t want Him to feel so sad...

“Why…”

The God let out a questioning hum, a bit absent-minded, still sad, still softly mournful.

Tony gritted his teeth. He couldn’t see Him so depressed, so downtrodden. Even less so because of him!

“Why did you talk about the questions I asked? About Honor, I mean. What does it have to do with anything?” 

Lips pressed against his cheek with an unasked question. Was he not still angry? Did he truly wish to bury this hurt? 

Tony leaned into it, accepting the affectionate touch, yearning for His presence like a flower leaned towards the sun. His God, as questionable as he’d been in the stories, had always been _his_ sun. 

He’d asked for forgiveness and Tony knew that this was no small thing. He _knew_ the intent had never been to hurt him and so he could forgive Him. He already had.  

He turned his head, catching sight of his God from the corner of his eye, and smiled softly, showing as much as he could the way he felt, his affection and the lack of any lingering anger. 

With a quick kiss to show his thanks, the God leaned back and pulled himself back into their game. 

“You never judged, never condemned any actions you heard of, or listened to gossips and rumors without ensuring that you had all the facts and that you had heard all sides of an issue. Even then, you _still_ considered that people could have different circumstances and refrained from condemning them or blaming them.” 

The God’s voice went soft, a tender whisper that only served to show His affection and how much it mattered to him. 

“You made sure to never shun anyone or participate in _anything_ that excluded vulnerable people.” 

Tony was silent. He’d never thought about it that way, never thought it mattered so much. In fact, it was so natural to him that he didn’t even notice himself doing it. 

Though, he realized that it wasn’t necessarily the norm. 

“Also…”

And his God’s voice turned mischievous.

“Not even the stories of people _you_ knew and admired did you take at face value. Not even my own, those that pertained to _“your God”,_ did you listen without questioning.” 

Tony cleared his throat, somehow embarrassed. 

“Those were highly questionable stories my God.” 

“Indeed they were!” 

The God sounded delighted.

“But you were never afraid to speak up about it and tell Me what you thought of them. Never did you fail to check for accuracy or different accounts. Never, not even for a friend or a mentor, did you fail to take everything into account.”

His voice grew tender again, fingers fondly brushing through his hair. 

“And I was so proud of you for that. Still am. Such integrity, such _Honor_.”

Tony blushed. He wasn’t much used to being praised, his God being the only one who usually did so, and He’d been absent for _years_ before their ...intense reunion. 

And the likelihood of receiving approval was even less so for something most people had considered as an annoyance or a character flaw. Questions went against the principle of Faith, where you take someone at their word and contented yourself with their account of the facts. _Their biased account,_ a small voice in the back of his mind corrected. 

The God’s chuckle made him think that his frustration was a tad more obvious than he’d thought. Though, he supposed that if _this_ was what his God associated with Honor, then… He could call himself honorable and not feel like a fraud. 

“I need you to say it out loud sweetheart.” 

Tony groaned. This was embarrassing. He was still unsure about himself, about his own ability to be as virtuous as his God claimed, and here he was being asked to...

The God twisted the rod spearing through him. The bead caught on his rim _turned_ , dragging the sensitive skin with it and reminding him sharply of his current predicament. He wasn’t exactly in a _position_ to dither, and even though his God appeared to be ready to be very _patient_ with him, Tony wasn’t certain that it would turn into his favor. 

The bead inside of him rubbed along his inner walls, spinning and pressing down, stretching him even beyond what its simple weight did. Meanwhile the bead of “Honor” was still halfway in, a not-quite-strain on his already loosened hole but still a noticeable burn. Especially as his God started teasing him again, scratching down the sensitive skin just behind his balls and tugging at his poor abused rim until Tony _wailed_. 

“I am waiting, love.”

Tony sobbed as arousal swept through him, even more violent than before. Every inch of his skin was burning with _need_ , his cock white hot and his balls clenched tight to his body. His ass was still trying to milk the bead caught inside and swallow up the next one.

His God was an evil bastard.

Tony clawed at the still damp grass, his breath halting, his scattered mind remembering there was something he was supposed to do, something but what? 

God! That pearl inside, want, need, more!

Tony gasped in some air as his God pulled on the rod, just a little, just enough to drag at his rim and send vicious sparks of rapture skittering through his nerves... 

And softly pushed it back _in_ , just enough for the bead to roll on the puffy muscles and send more excruciating bliss down his spine.

Tony whined, his mind had wiped out so quickly and yet he _knew_ there was something he needed to remember, something that embarrassed him but made him feel good and warm inside... 

His God’s praise and pride, being worthy, being someone his God could be proud to have as a Beloved... 

_Virtues._

Tony remembered now, that his God had called him honorable, and had done so in a way that Tony couldn’t even refute since it was something that he’d always acknowledged about himself. And while he’d considered it a flaw, his God had found pride in it, deemed it so valuable that He had praised him for it, had considered it so important that He’d assigned it to one of the Nine Sacred Virtues. 

_Honor._

And yet Tony had never needed to make any effort to act that way. It seemed only fair to question, to make sure to only act upon the truth instead of rumors. 

“Come on sweetheart. You’re thinking too much. I must not be doing this right.” 

Tony’s mind sparked briefly, a flash of inspiration piercing through the fog. 

Perhaps one didn’t need to make much effort in order to be virtuous? 

Every thought disappeared as He started scratching His nails down his spine, dragging His hand back down towards his sensitive places.

Tony barely had the time to take a bracing breath before He started tugging on his balls, playing with them, softly squeezing them together in His palm. Tony _screamed_ , his chest rising away from the ground as he shouted to the heavens, aftershocks of agony and rapture coursing through him and leaving him limp and pliant under the pleasurable onslaught. 

A low chuckle caressed his ear like velvet.

“I am waiting, darling.”

Waiting… Waiting? What for? 

Tony’s brain scrambled for an answer as he tried to remember what was happening in the real world, (what were they talking about?), and pierce through the haze of bliss and torment in order to actually answer his God’s query. 

What was He just asking for? 

“Honor, darling. I’m asking you about Honor.”

The bead was still turning and twisting in its in-between place, tugging at his rim and sliding through the goo. Tony remembered _somehow_ that it was a bead of Virtue. The bead of Honor. 

And that his God found him honorable for something he did naturally. 

And yet He wanted him to accept His judgment on this, and to believe himself to be as virtuous as He said. 

Tony very much wanted to please his God. 

But somehow he knew, _he just knew,_ that if he said it just to make Him happy, it wouldn’t work. He had to _believe it._ His God would know if he didn’t and _that_ was something he wouldn’t lie about. 

“Come on sweetheart, I know you can do this.” 

With the stimulation inflicted upon his body, the ground scraping against sore nipples, his God’s hands teasing his intimacy, and the vines twining and stroking his limbs... Tony felt his mind floating in a sea of sensation. Pleasure permeated his senses, intoxicating.

Hazily, he remembered…

_Endless hours pouring over books looking for the truth behind the tall tales, for the story written between the lines, as he tried to clear his God’s reputation..._

_A small boy with a curly mop of brown hair being shunned and accused of breaking a demonic seal and being possessed by it..._

_A jaded teen of dark skin tone being suspected of theft because of the reputations of his tribe..._

_A young lady with fiery hair being dismissed for her gender..._

_He’d looked and searched and found the truth, believed in them befriended them, and helped them out for no other reason than fairness._

Yes he could believe he’d behaved himself with Honor. 

The God tugged on his balls, pulling back some more before suddenly releasing his ballsack, letting them snap back against his pelvis and swing wildly before He caught them again and _squeezed_ as he twisted the bead inside him.

Tony cried out, breathless, muscles tensing as his body attempted to curl in on itself and protect his poor abused genitals. He strained against the unmoving restraints, torn between feelings of excruciating bliss and the sweet burning pain that only heightened his pleasure, and he couldn’t think anymore. 

Soothing strokes brought his mind back to his body, his God huffing in his ear, and he could _hear_ the sadistic glee as he whispered:

“You seem to have trouble concentrating, my dear. I did not ask you something quite so complicated, that you should need so long, I believe.”

Bastard. Smug bastard. 

Honor, He was speaking of Honor, the one virtue that they’d all believed him incapable of… 

Except that Honor… Contrary to what the monks said, to what Steven said… he did have Honor. He wasn’t a fraud, his God said so, had made him _see_...

His God, who had actually looked beyond the front he’d put up and seen the vulnerabilities beneath.

Between two gasps, Tony spoke the revelation that his God had forced him acknowledge. 

“I have Honor!”

A triumphant huff answered his claim, before the God crooned at him, pride suffusing His words.

“Now that wasn’t so difficult!”

The God caressed his back, pressed down between his shoulder blades and let the rest of the “small” bead sink inside. 

Tony whined as the vines started writhing around him, caressing him, squeezing him, cradling him in a sea of pleasure. Distracting him from the burning stretch of the beads sinking deeper inside him.

Some distant part of him knew what his God was doing of course. Positive reinforcement was something he was familiar with, and it might have irritated him if he hadn’t felt so good, so warm cocooned in the magic’s embrace. 

The storm of need tormenting him without respite had abated, the raging inferno that he’d barely grown used to leaving only soft bliss and saccharine pleasure. 

It was his reward for following his God’s will and working through such a painful vulnerability of his. 

He shivered in delight, the tender kiss on his brow felt _heavenly_ , the sweetness contrasting sharply with the challenging clash of will beforehand. 

The bead wasn’t so large that it stretched him overmuch as the rest slipped inside, especially considering the relentless tease and stretch his God had put him through beforehand. The rod had only slid a little deeper, the burn only one more note in the symphony of delight he was drowning in.

Soft hands were stroking him, caressing his flank, as he slowly came back from the high. With a jolt, he realized that he actually hadn’t climaxed, this was simply a momentary relief offered by the soft caresses and what Tony suspected to be a judicious use of magic. 

Through the lethargy of his contentment, he couldn’t even find it in himself to be anything but amused. _That cheat_. 

“Don’t go too far now, darling, we still have seven more beads to go.” 

Tony gulped, suddenly alarmed.

He’d forgotten about those. 

Not only was his ass never going to survive, but if his God planned to use each bead to deal with one of his issues, or address his vulnerabilities or self doubt… He would never survive it.

Even if it were only praise, Tony had never been faced with such a barrage of positivity about his person. He had no idea how to deal with it. 

_Perhaps he could…_

“Now now darling, you’re not thinking about giving up on me, are you? 

Piqued, Tony raised his chin off the ground, a mulish expression on his face. 

“And what if I am?”

The God only chuckled.

“Words only make you more brazen. Physical limits worry you but you push through anyway, and you balk at discussing your feelings? Why my dear, one would almost think you are embarrassed!”

Tony blushed (damnit, he _was_ embarrassed). He did realize how ridiculous it was, but even with his bare ass exposed to his God’s gaze and his hole abused or his balls played with, he didn’t feel half as vulnerable as he did when his God even hinted at the dismissive looks he’d dealt with for years, the borderline scorn and pity for being so unable to follow the Nine Sacred Virtues, or the way the head monk looked at him coldly, wondering behind his back how could any god choose such an unruly youth to be their Beloved?

Tony never let those words get to him, never let his God see how much they’d hurt him, or at least he thought he hadn’t. 

Apparently, his God had been more perceptive than he’d thought.

Then again, it was ambitious to think that he’d been able to keep things from Him. In fact, it was even _arrogant_ to think himself even capable of such a thing. His God had probably always known, but also realized that he would never agree to breach the topic willingly. He would obfuscate, or dither, twist facts around until the conversation changed to others, less heavy topics.

And while it was _possible_ to extract information from someone who was using these techniques, having a true heart to heart was nigh on impossible that way, let alone actually managing to convince someone to think differently.

He could look back now, with such knowledge, and notice the subtle hints otherwise, the way his God had worked to shore up on his self confidence and his trust in himself, the way He’d showered him in praise where others had only condemned his actions. The way He’d always just been _there_ , supportive of all his endeavors. 

He’d clung to those words like the life saving thing they were, keeping him afloat while he felt so lonely he could drown in those feelings, in comparing himself to others and finding himself so inadequate. 

Until his God had cradled him in soft warm comforting magic and told him to only compare himself to his own skills, and try to be the best version of _himself_ he could be. Not Steven, not Nicholas, not Natalia. Just himself. 

He was his own measuring stick, the only one he could compete with. And he was already far above the others in his God’s eyes, as _he_ was his God’s Beloved, not them. And _he_ was his God’s Chosen as well. None of them could even compare to that. 

And yet, those sharp words had still reached him, still pierced through the thin magic  shield his God had erected around him. Absent as He was some days, incorporeal the rest, He was just one voice amongst a multitude, one voice that meant the world but was too often drowned out by nasty whispers.

And so he’d felt ashamed for that too, that he hadn’t been able to keep to his God’s wishes, to hold His word above all others. He’d let himself be influenced by those people his God had called useless. Hurt and hesitant, he started questioning his own actions and, as unwillingly as it was, found himself lacking compared to the others.

Because, even if he bettered himself, he felt as though he _still_ didn’t measure up. When he worked on improving himself on his own terms, he couldn’t help but feel that his scale was skewed, that he was still coming up short. 

Feeling that he was failing his God didn’t help his insecurity, and he’d started changing the subject whenever the topic had come up, anxiously clamming up or straight up avoiding his God. 

(Truthfully, he’d lacked stealth at the time and he couldn’t understand how he’d ever thought his god had not noticed it. Perhaps because he’d gotten even subtler, and started biding his time.)

So He’d waited until he was truly caught in His web and in no state to pervadicate. 

Indeed, he’d be hard pressed to play word games or avoidance tactics with ropes tying him up, a couple of jade pearls crammed up his ass and pleasure inducing Hell Goo coating his entire body.

The only thing that could stop him from confronting this at his God’s leisure was if he gave up the game entirely. Tony knew it, he could still back down, his God wouldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to. 

But He wanted to, Tony knew. 

He had wanted to soothe those old wounds since the day they were created, and as much as he’d built up his armor and toughened his skin, he still had these crippling thoughts inside him, self doubts gnawing at his heart, poisoning his mind… 

And Tony wanted to let Him.

Not only was he still feeling pleasantly warm from the magic’s embrace and soft glowing pleasure still coursing through him… He also wanted to make his god happy, and shamefully maybe, he wanted to hear more of this glowing praise, this absolute faith that his God inexplicably had in him.

So he relaxed back and let his eyes fall to half mast.

“I would never let embarrassment stop me, my God.” 

Pleasure was obvious in the God’s voice as He tugged lightly on his hair. Tony groaned, still blissed out.

“Good. I would hate for our fun to be cut so short. I still have many things planned for that delightfull bottom of yours.”

Tony snorted.

“Yeah like seven more beads, for instance.”

Far from offended, the God only laughed.

“Like those, yes.”

Gradually the vines started moving with more intent around Tony, stroking more firmly, lingering on zones that were the most sensitive. They pressed into him as his skin started heating up again, sparking arousal back up slowly, _slowly_...

“Well, now, do you think you are ready for the next one? You do remember what it is, this time, don’t you?”

Tony gulped. He mostly remembered that it was bigger than the one that had just gone through. A shiver of trepidation swept through him before it was soothed by the gentle hand in his head. 

He forced his mind back to the mantras he’d learned by heart, each Virtue and the order by which they were threaded through...

...starting from Truth... then Honor… 

The rhythm of the melody started filling his mind again, one syllable after another falling through his mind, rote learned by heart over the years…

Truth Honor; Hos-pi-ta-li-ty and Fi-de-li-ty; Self Re-li-an-ce and Industry; Perseverance and Courage DISCIPLINE

(It was a familiar song, he never knew whether he hated it or not. He truly did wish for a way to prove his devotion to his God, and yet, there was so much bitterness associated with this rote, the snap of the ruler before his face as the maestro glared at him on the last word -or even the one before-, the snide words when he thumbed his beads, murmuring the rote as a familiar mantra to settle his mind as they all did, mean whispers wondering why he even bothered, as little as he implemented them in life…) 

But maybe, _maybe_ with his God at his back praising him softly for each of his accomplishments, with Him so convinced of his worth, he might actually manage to make peace with those and become strong in his convictions, secure in his place as his God’s Beloved. He could _maybe_ actually feel himself be worthy of the title and the trust bestowed upon him. 

The God tugged at his hair bringing him back to himself. 

“Truly my dear, you seem quite distracted. I do hope I am not boring you?”

Tony gulped, he knew that mischievous tone, the devious glee barely hidden by mock nonchalance. That was a God just looking for a pretext to wage mayhem. 

He knew better than to let his God take it as an invitation to be more…. Entertaining. He had much enough on his plate -and in his ass- already, thank you very much. 

And any current shenanigan would probably involve his already overstimulated hide. He really didn’t think his sanity could take it. 

So, scrambling for his scattered wits, and letting the ghosts of his past lay firmly buried in the dark recesses of his mind, he got his head back in the game. His God had asked him a question, and he _actually_ had an answer, this time, and he wasn’t even too out of his mind with arousal to answer.  

There was no reason to let bad memories taint the future he wanted to build, and those bad experiences were far behind him now. 

And his God was planning on overwriting them with some definitely pleasurable ones.

If only Tony managed to _cooperate_ before He got a very devious and most certainly horribly pleasurable idea in his mind.

Truth, honor, Hos-pi-ta...

Somehow frantically, Tony gasped out his rather belated answer.

“Hospitality!”

The soft hum and light tugs on his curls showed that his God was pleased with him, and not yet on the path to torture him _more_ than what was already on the menu. 

Tony’s mind was clear enough that he dared venture out some objection to a Virtue he’d never been able to understand. 

“But I’ve never actually owned a house or received someone. Actually, no Beloved ever owns property while they’re still bound to their god.”

“Always questioning, my darling.”

The God sounded pleased, and Tony preened, he knew now how much his God loved him being able to speak his mind about things he didn’t understand, to look for answers and point out things he found nonsensical.

“While that is true, it is a bit reductive to confine the notion of Hospitality simply to the bounds of a home. Just as a preconceived notion of _what Honor should be_ is a fallacy, so is that of Hospitality. Of course there are codes, and general principles, though those deviate for every culture, and of course being on the receiving end of Hospitality has different implications as well…” 

Tony nodded, enraptured. He loved listening to his God, especially when He looked at social constructs and took from it what amounted to the essence of humanity.

“Hospitality first existed as a way to enforce respect, make sure people behaved in an orderly manner in society. It’s coupled with generosity and mutual respect, rules to observe when you enter someone else’s territory, guidelines on how to receive them in your space.” 

_Yes_ , Tony nodded as much as his bonds allowed. _That sounded quite reasonable._

In fact, he’d thought along those lines quite a few times himself.

“In your travels, you did become a guest in people’s houses, did you not?” 

Tony’s eyes snapped open in realization. Of course He would go there wouldn’t he?

“And indeed you were polite and respectful, even helpful when the occasion allowed.”

And indeed he had been, hadn’t he? As he pondered this point, the thin rod connecting the beads slid forward until the third bead started pressing rather insistently against his tight pucker. 

Tony groaned, slumping in defeat. He _knew_ where this was going. 

“Would that even count? That was basic decency.”

Don’t think about how this one is bigger than the previous, don’t think about it, just don’t.

The God chuckled fondly, softly rubbing his thumb against his temple as the third bead started forcing its way in, slowly, steadily, _demandingly,_ until his poor hole had no choice but to give way before the pearl. 

It _was_ bigger.

“Of course it counts, darling. You received hospitality with grace, and offered it to one in need, even at a cost to yourself. One cannot contest that you have proven yourself more than able to go above and beyond what one expects of the rules of hospitality.”

Tony opened his mouth, ready to dispute the claim before he remembered.

_There had been a storm... he’d been hiking through the highlands, looking for knowledge and someone to apprentice under for a season. He’d been directed to a small village hidden between two high cliffs, and he’d been caught unaware by the quicksilver change in the weather._

_The clear bright morning had turned into a truly frightful tempest, hail pelting him through the thin cover of the trees, water soaking through his sturdy clothes and freezing him to the bone in less time than it took to realize that remaining on the steep trails would be a bad idea. An abyss was yawning at his side, small and not so small rocks rolling down from above, making the trek more than hazardous._

_He had backtracked quickly, seeking the shelter left on the road for travelers, a small hunter’s cabin with just enough provisions for a single person to be comfortable with._

_And yet, on the road, he had come across a fallen pilgrim, obviously just as surprised by the mercurial clime. At first sight he was unconscious, perhaps even wounded, and Tony had roused him, protected him from the worst of the gale, supported him on the hike to the cabin, treated his wounds and taken care of him until he had been certain that he was well recovering, long after the storm had passed._

“Well, darling, do you have any objections?”

The God whispered sweetly in his ear with a small nip as He twisted the rod in his ass. His rim dragged over the round bead that was stretching him open _wide_.

Tony groaned, biting his lips as the feelings ricocheted through him. He could feel his mind hazing over as the lingering warmth of the magic got more and more intense, slowly taking over him. The burning stretch of his hole and his insides awakened the goo coating his privates, and his oversensitive skin started tingling all over, begging for touch. His flagging arousal started hardening again, pulsing with want and the frustration of previously unfulfilled orgasms. 

His God was a cruel _cruel_ man, but however did He know about that incident? 

“Honestly, sweetheart, do you truly believe that I ever left you alone?”

Somehow, that was both terribly unsurprising and reassuring. Even though he’d never actually _seen_ his God before this day, and He’d never been _physically_ there, even as He’d stopped communicating those past few years… His God had never actually left him alone.

Tony felt a bit stupid for not realising it sooner. After all, there was something that had bound the two of them closely together for most of his life, so much that he rarely ever noticed it. But he knew that bond wasn’t entirely what his God was talking about, there was something more, hidden in those words, some kind of obfuscation...

His breath was stolen by the sluishing of the bead sliding back and forth through his rim, sending shockwaves of pleasure skittering through his nerves. Tony shivered and cried out, trying to jerk away from the evil evil _delightful_ fingers of his God… 

“You were those birds weren’t You?”

The words were gasped out, as Tony suddenly realised that what he took for normal wildlife behavior, or even simple side effects to being a Beloved, was in fact his God spying on him. 

The gall!

(Tony would never admit to feeling warmed by the attention, touched that his God would go so far to ensure that he was safe. He wanted to keep the leverage offered by being rightfully outraged at having an actual stalker!)

The teeth nipping at his ear became more insistent. 

“Indeed, my darling, I was. Now, what are you going to do about it?” 

Interesting question. 

There was precious little he could do, trussed up as he was. He really wasn’t in any position to complain, really. 

Especially as the God kept teasing his most intimate places, nimble fingers coursing lightly over his throbbing cock and leaving trails of fire and need behind them, the too light touch doing nothing to alleviate his suffering. 

The most he could do was keep it in mind and enact his revenge later. 

(Not for stalking, so much as not letting him know He was there. Even though he understood His reasoning, it didn’t mean that he had to accept it.)

“Maybe you could answer my question instead?” 

The question was asked in a pleasant conversational tone that contradicted the playful swipes of nails along his crack. 

Tony screamed at the sudden burn, not so much intense as sudden and lingering. His rim attempted to clench around the too wide bead and the God took the opportunity to tug at it, strumming and scratching at the taut muscle. Tony screamed again, contorting his chest against the ground, as it was the only part of him that still had any mobility left, his body trying to crawl away from the callous pleasuring his God was putting him through. 

Tony sobbed, his body burning, assaulted from all sides. His God’s head was still beside his own, a pleased hum contemplating his desperate state before He started mouthing at the delicate skin behind his ear. 

Pleasure was flooding his veins, desperation mounting as his cock suddenly remembered how long it had been needing release, a niggling though at the back of his mind reminding him that the pressure would continue mounting, the frustration growing until he finally gave his God what He wanted…

But what did He want? 

Tony couldn’t think anymore, the vines had come alive again, slithering over him caressing, squeezing, leaving behind them burning trails of goo and bursts of lingering pleasure everywhere but where he wanted it most.  

His dick only got a few fleeting caresses from quick fingers, a barely there touch that only served to remind him of how much it _ached_ , how he longed for the firm grasp of his God’s hand, a real stroke down his shaft, _relief_ from the inferno that had awakened again inside him.

His God pressed His fingers around his rim, pushing on the bead through the skin, and rubbed the taut muscle as it strained around the breadth of the pearl he was caught on. 

A hint of teeth on _that spot_ beside his jaw made him howl as his dick jerked. Drips of precome splattered his belly as his cry died in a low whine, eyes clenched shut as he desperately tried to remember what it was that he had to do to make the torment stop. 

Did he ever want it to stop?

“Come on sweetheart, I know you can do it.”

A strangled sound escaped Tony as the words echoed in his mind, empty of meaning for a beat as he slowly processed them. Then a suffusing warmth spread through his chest, a softer kind of arousal and a quiet strength that let him break through the fog and _think._

The bead represented a Virtue, the third one.

_A ruler snapping before his face, startling him, scaring him._

_His God enveloping him in warmth and pride, such a Virtuous Beloved I have, my darling_

The Virtue of Hospitality.

_In the cabin at the stranger's sickbed._

_At the Rhodes’, stealthily fixing the mill in thanks._

_Politely presenting a gift after meeting the Potts parents._

Yes, he had done that hadn’t he?

The God scratched long fiery lines along the inside of his thigh. Tony choked on his gasp, excruciating bliss tearing through him as his muscles tensed up in answer, his inner walls squeezing the pearls already inside him and awakening the pleasurable burn of the Goo. 

Words, he needed words! 

“I proved… Hospitality! I have… done, ngggl, good?”

The God chuckled, genuinely amused at the incoherent babble. Hot puffs of air tingled across his wet skin, and Tony gasped in rapture, careening towards his completion, barely coherent enough to worry if he’d gotten it right, if he’d done well...

“I suppose it is good enough. Fine then sweetheart. Take it in, my love. _”_

The bead started sinking inside of him. The rod pushed deeper inside, burning through him with the stretch, everything turning more and more intense, fire was running through his veins. As the need turned agonizing, a warm hand came around his pulsing member, stroking him once, twice, and finally…. 

Tony’s mind went white, a silent scream escaping him as his cock _pulsed_ into the warm hand pleasuring him. The burn of bliss seared through him from _everywhere_ as jets of cum shooted out of him, splattering the ground and his belly. 

Tony was floating in a cloud of pleasure, the afterglow of his orgasm making everything around him mellow and pleasant. He was barely aware of his short panting as he gulped in air for his burning lungs, his muscles were entirely limp, his dick soft and sated. 

Everything was so good, so _peaceful_. Tony giggled euphorically. His God was there at his back, touching him; He loved him, He had cared enough to follow him on his travels and keep guard, He believed in him, trusted him…

The world was wonderful…

The God nuzzled the spot just below his ear, a soft smile pulling at His lips

“Are you back with me darling?”

Tony mumbled groggily, his blissed out mind not mustering enough energy to process the words properly.

The God laughed, mouth still pressed against his neck, chest resting against his back, and Tony melted. 

It was like all the frustration, the tension he’d accumulated had just thawed out and turned into a slow cloying rapture, turning his thoughts into a syrupy kind of euphoria.

Tony could have stayed like that forever. 

And then the hand started moving. 

And Hell started again. 

Tony whined, uncomprehending, as his skin started crawling everywhere, an unpleasant tingle shivering through him. He wanted the hand off, the beads out out out. 

He squirmed as the hand insistently palmed his exhausted cock, rubbing its head softly, sweetly, torturously, and everything in Tony screamed for him to get away from the agonizing stimulation, the relentless demands of that hand, those devious fingers.

Tony gasped, short pants loud in the surrounding silence as trembles wracked his body. A low whine originating from the depth of his lungs echoed around them as his body slowly started giving in, his burning, shivering tingling skin submitting to the harrowing caresses. The soft yet insistent touch never stopped as his God slowly reawakened his spent cock.

Eyes clenched shut in both turmoil and anguish, Tony resigned himself to enduring the whims of the mercurial being he’d pledged himself to, a deep groan escaping him as he felt his poor abused dick start to harden again.

“God why...?”

The God nibbled at his neck, sending tremors of excruciating bliss through his skin, before biting down harshly. 

Tony cried out, pain and rapture flooding his mind with conflicting signals, hips pumping forward in the sheath formed by the God’s closed hand. He was trembling all over, overstimulation making even his breaths shaky and painful, even as the hand kept its implacable caresses. 

His body was crying out demandingly for him to rest, recover away from the unrelenting fondling. Tears of defeat started streaming from his eyes as his flesh was implacably forced into giving more, more, _more_ to his unyielding and cruel God. 

Arousal was wrenched from him, the firm hand coaxing it from him until his cock stood at half mast, skin stinging on the brink between ecstasy and agony. Tingles coursed half unpleasantly through him, his insides were pulsing with a deep ache around the three beads inside of him, subconsciously squeezing around them and blazing too intense delight down his spine.

Tony whined again, a pitiful pleading sound as he was torn apart by the sensations, ravaged by the renewed need tearing through his exhausted body.

“Oh, my darling. Do remember that we still have six more beads to go.”

Tony sobbed as the God crooned into his ear, sounding oh so pleased with Himself.

“I can’t m’God, m’sorry, I _can’t!”_

The God huffed a laugh before nibbling some more along his neck, sucking at the tender skin before giving it soft bites. Tony shook under Him, feeling so fragile that he might shatter at any instant but the God didn’t seem worried, mouthing at the delicate skin until it was sore and pulsing with a bone deep pleasure that seemed _unbearable_ to his worn psyche.

“You are so responsive, my lovely.”

Tony squirmed as the God kept driving him to his brink, deliberately trampling all over his body’s limits and bringing him back to a state of desperate need, sweet words lovingly breathed into his skin as He tormented him with His soft touches and sweet pleasure. 

The firm touch around his cock turned feather soft again, a tease, a hint of what it had been and could be again, before the hand withdrew. It left him cold, shaft aching and sore, hard and pulsing with need again. Tony cried out in protest before biting on his lips as frustration coursed through his veins, a fiery want scorching through him as he was denied again. 

_He ached…_

The God only chuckled, moving back up his neck and biting on already bruised skin. Tony choked on a scream as the rod in his ass started advancing again. It pushed the next bead against his rim, ineluctably forcing him open around it, his tender rim _throbbing_ as it reluctantly complied, burning with almost more pain than pleasure this time as the overstimulated skin protested more of his God’s merciless ministrations. 

Tenderly, the God soothed his lover’s abused neck with long languorous licks, skittering pleasure shivering down his spine as a finger started circling his rim along the straining edge, a blissful cooling sensation alleviating the inflamed pangs of pain and leaving him pliant under Him. Still overwhelmed, still on the edge of bliss and desperation, swinging from _too much_ to _not enough_ , but soothed, tamed, once more submitting to his God’s tender mercies. 

Tony gasped in a few breaths, tasting the salt of tears on his lips. 

“This one is for Faithfulness, my darling, and we can both agree that you have been very faithful to me, haven’t you?”

Fidelity. Yes, Tony had been very faithful. Never straying from his love for his God, never accepting the advances of young ladies and men who found his form pleasing, never even letting his own hand stray down his straining arousal when he awoke to a tent in his sheets…. 

“Ye’sm’God. Hav–’”

A strangled sound escaped him as the bead was shoved in, popping inside with a squelch, his rim barely twinging at the strain before closing back over it with a wet sound. Tony groaned as he felt his insides burning, expanding to make room for the fourth bead. Already he felt _too_ _full_ , about to burst with the weight of them inside of him, and he had to gulp his air in before he stopped feeling as though they were pushing down his lungs.

He exhaled shakily as his God stroked his ass, getting used to one more intrusion inside of him, taking stock of his body in the moments his God left him to adjust. Tony wondered if he should feel grateful. 

As he felt his God’s mischievous smile against his jaw, he decided that _no_ , he had no cause to feel grateful for the basic decency of leaving him enough time to breath between moments of being consumed by his God’s game. 

His God laughed, burying his face against his neck. 

Tony sighed shakily, his body still feeling the tremors of need and overstimulation but his mind flashing between a fond sort of exasperation and bone deep resignation. 

“Caught that one, didn’t You?”

The teeth tugging at his lobe told him that yes, yes he had. Apparently the link between their minds had been mended at some point. Probably long before he realized it. 

“You are lovely my darling and I do _so_ love the twists of your mind. But I might still make you pay for the sass later.”

After a pause to let the unspoken threat sink in, a delightful thrill of trepidation tinted with anticipation making his belly quiver, He spoke again with a low purr, warm puffs of air into the shell of his ear making him shiver, his cock aching as it pulsed in unwilling arousal.

Hah, as if it wasn’t half the fun! Sadist...

“We still have five more beads to go after all, my dear.” 

Tony moaned in despair (yearning) limbs slumping into the vines around him and they started _writhing_ again, caressing his aching skin, making him tingle with pleasure and squirm as his cock throbbed with anguish.

“Now now sweetheart, none of that now.”

The God tutted, gently chiding his squirming mortal before the coils around his hips tightened again, leaving them once more frozen in place as his suspended legs trembled. 

“You wouldn’t want to pull on those beads would you?”

As he spoke, He started tugging on the rod, dragging his rim back and forth, forcing it to open just a tad, letting the top of the fourth bead peek out before pushing it back down, _down_ until the fifth bead started teasing the sensitive pucker. 

“Well sweetheart? Do you remember what’s next?”

Tony whined, not yet recovered from the assault on his senses, burning stretch and sweet slippery rubbing, pulsing pleasure spreading through his veins… 

The beads started turning inside of him, pushing against his insides, stretching burn contrasting with the soft touch of cool jade sliding along the puffy overheated rim. 

His blurry mind struggled to understand his God’s question, context slipping from his mind as his cock craved more stimulation, more blissful touch from Him. And yet He was still waiting for an answer, all the while twisting the beads some more and scratching lines of fire inside of his thighs before reaching his tingling balls. The vines coiled around him, squeezing his limbs, caressing _everywhere_ … 

“I am _waiting_ , my sweet.”

Tony howled as his balls were tugged again, desperation making him flounder as his blood ignited, his poor balls once more in the ruthless grasp of his God as He started playing with them. Tony sobbed as He started pressing them into His palm, thumbing at the small groove separating them and pushing His knuckles _down_ on the spot just behind them, and Tony… Tony saw white, his poor cock valiantly jerking against his belly as his mind emptied of everything but the rapture coursing through him…

When his mind came back to his body, he was still burning with need, craving for a new climax coursing through his veins and Tony weeped. Need was burning through him and at the same time his body was crying out for rest, for the burning touches to cease and for him to _finally_ be able to recover in peace. 

And his God was still waiting, he realised as the hand around his balls started tugging again, stretching the soft skin of his scrotum. Tony took in a few halting breaths as he tried and failed to remember what the question even _was_ before the next bead started pushing insistently down against his rim, just until the skin started straining under the pressure. 

Tony gulped, his mind hazily remembering that the fifth was the middle one, the one as thick as the first one, the one that almost tore him apart...

“Now, now, darling, I believe you’re being dramatic. And I am still waiting for my answer.”

Tony whined, forcing his mind to go back and remember, what was the previous one…

_...Fi-de-li-ty; Self Re-li-an-ce and._..

“Self!...re..lian..ce…” 

His words were halting, cut through in part by his too short breaths and by the memory of the song, the mantra that had echoed through his life for so long… 

“Good boy!”

The God did sound truly delighted at his success, and it was a success, seeing how his mind was entirely consumed by the contradicting demands of his body, the need, the _ache_...

Tony glowed at the praise, his skin singing with pleasure too intense for his desperate body. He was caught in the wave of his yearning, soreness and aches of _too much_ keeping his bliss just on the edge of painful, and the pain just on this side of rapture…. 

“And Self-reliance has always been something that you were so very good at, hasn’t it? You’ve been alone for so long, forced to solve your problems all by yourself, and even when I was there by your side, you were still always so determined to be independent and stand by your own rights.”

And that was sadly true, if only because Tony had never really had anyone else to rely upon. 

Soft fingers started caressing his throbbing cock, nimbly teasing the hungry skin, so tender and sensitive that tony couldn’t help but gasp as even such a delicate touch sent twinges of fire through his veins, too much, too sensitive and yet not enough, still not enough… _Again_ … 

Even before his God left him—let him think He’d left—the people at the monastery never liked him, or his questions, his tricks, his sass. 

The need pulsing through him distracted him from the steady pressure exerted against his ass, hole stretching, straining, _distending_ to make room for the fifth bead. Steadily the burn got worse until Tony couldn’t ignore it anymore, crying and gasping through the pain, over sensitivity making his whole body tremble in his bonds, and his God shushed him, taking hold of his cock again and stroking 

The other kids, Beloveds like himself, seemed personally offended by his very existence, his irreverence, his cleverness -his genius- and they had kept trying to pull nasty tricks on him, locking him up, trashing his belongings… and Tony had quickly learned that he was the only one who would do something about that. 

A gurgling noise escaped Tony throat as the God drove him higher and higher in his desperation, excruciating touches slowly driving him mad with bliss, while the bead was plowing through his hole, forcing him open again until he was held at that terrible halfway point again.

He’d managed to thwart their bullying on his own, and even the score to make sure it wouldn’t happen again . He’d learned to make them respect him...

“Well my dear? Do you not agree with me?” 

The words were teasing, challenging, and so very sweet compared to the slow torture He was inflicting upon him. Tony whined, clenching his eyes shut and forcing his breath through his teeth before he managed anything close to an answer.

“Yes, m’God. I...I’m self...rel..y’ant…” 

Voice rasping out through a sore throat, body overwhelmed and pulled steadily back to the brink, Tony felt himself slowly breaking apart. His cock pulsed in his God’s hand as a kiss was pressed against his temple. The pearl slowly sank deeper into him, pushing the rod down with it. 

It punched the air out of him.

His insides were splitting open, pain running through his veins pulsing through him as it kept sinking _deeper._

The God swiped His thumb under the head of his cock, nibbling at that spot right below his ear that made his mind go crazy and suddenly the unbearable agony turned into torturous delight again. 

Tony whined low into his throat as the beads pressed inside of him against the goo coated walls. They pulsed along with his heart, a drumbeat of pleasure and agony beating against his ears, along his cock, down to the purpling bruises peppered along his throat... 

“So good, my Beloved, my sweet sweet Anthony. You’re taking this so well…”

Tony hummed, eyes falling to a half mast, the sweet words and the praise mingling with the syrupy warmth that started permeating his body once the burning need settled into his bones, sinking deeper into his core as the warm warm hand kept stroking his cock, slowly, softly.

The ache of _too much_ and _too soon_ was almost gone, almost overwritten by the mounting tension of an approaching climax and Tony sighed under as the feelings coursing through him temporarily swayed from the edge of rapturous torment toward a more pleasant kind of delight.

“There’s only four of them left my love. I know you can do this. Are you still with me?”

Tony shivered at the sweet words promising more bliss and torment. The God spoke of only four more beads but He’d failed to mention that those were the four biggest, and his ass could only open so much… 

His limbs started tensing and his apprehension slowly mounted before his God started shushing him softly. The hand left his aching cock and went back to brushing through his hair, fingers softly carding through the damp curls and tugging at them a little until Tony’s mind went hazy with need again. 

Teeth sunk into the flesh of his shoulder, biting then nibbling and soothing with a few comforting lick, before moving back to _that spot_ , worrying at the bruise He’d already painted on the sensitive skin of his throat before breathing out a challenge _He knew_ Tony couldn’t ignore.

“Come on, lover. Are you going to give up now?”

Tony keened low in his throat. He _did_ want to give up, trepidation at the thought of more beads _,_ more torment, more burn, more bliss made him want to call out his God’s True Name and put a stop to their game before He got into His mind the idea to make him come _again_ … 

And he knew, even now, if he did so, his God would have nothing but praise and kind words for him… but Tony would be disappointed in himself. He would feel like he’d failed his God, that he’d backed down even though his God had trusted him to get through it. 

And he didn’t want their game to stop either. 

So Tony decided to suck it up and leave the nervousness behind, and plow through his chosen path. Taking a bracing breath, he went ahead of his God and _asked for it._

“Aren’t you gonna’ask me wha’ the next Virtue’s?”

There was a surprised pause as his God seemingly processed what he just asked Him before a delighted laugh rang through his ears. His God always was appreciative of his brazenness and bold decisions.

“As you wish, my lovely, as you wish.”

His hand slid down his side to lay over his belly, nails lightly teasing through the soft trail of hair and the firm skin of his abs, “accidentally” brushing against his hard cock. A soft kiss was pressed against his cheek as the God did just as he’d asked. 

“Well then, Beloved Mine, tell me which Virtue is next.” 

And He sounded so very pleased and _proud_ that Tony barely had to struggle to find the strength to answer through the fog of sensations flooding through him. 

“Ind’stry… m’God… s’the Virtue…”

Exhaustion pulled at him, his tongue growing sluggish and his mouth dry as the writhing vines pulled more pleasure from his skin and coated him in sticky slippery Hell Goo again. Tony whimpered as the new bead started grinding against his hole, teasing it open slowly, implacably moving forward more and more and forcing his hole to spread open before the intrusion.

Tony whined as the God kept speaking to him soothingly, whispering a litany of soft endearments and encouraging words. His hand started stroking his straining cock again, moving just as slowly, just as torturously as the bead sinking into him. 

“That’s it sweetheart, that’s it, you’re so good for me, so deliciously lovely, so responsive, oh darling, there you go, you’re doing so well my love…”

Tony gritted his teeth and forced himself to breathe through the onslaught, fire burning through his veins as his hole widened, widened, and _widened_ again to make room for the sphere spearing him open. All the while, his God kept teasing him with too slow touches, too soft and yet too hard. 

Tony didn’t know what to think anymore until the hand around his cock twisted, thumb rubbing along the head and pulling at the foreskin and he just _stopped_ thinking as the burn turned sweet and the pain turned into pleasure. His body _sang_ , his breath catching as the aftershocks rang through him, moans falling from his lips like so many prayers left at the altar of his God. 

“Come on sweetheart, Industry was it? You’ve been building and improving on your skills since you’ve learned how to move your fingers my lovely clever one… Industry is something that you embody more than anyone I know, such a curious little explorer, my darling inventor, so ingenious, so determined….”

Tony listened, shocked and fascinated by the high esteem his God held him in, moved to tears by the care so obvious in those words… the pleasure flooding his veins blending with the love that swept through him, eyes open wide yet unseeing as he drowned in rapture. 

And yes, he remembered being so smart and so small, _quick yet still clumsy fingers picking parts through pieces of junk and assembling them into a timepiece. His fingers cutting themselves open on bent metal shards didn’t stop him for longer than it took to suck the wound, enough to remove the blood before he returned to his scavenging. Only his God’s insistence made him take proper care of the injury, so intent was he to improve upon his creation._

The bead slid against his hole pulling at the taut skin and pressing against it relentlessly. 

_Nights spent applying himself to one project after the other, each one more intricate more complex._

“Ye, m’indust’rus…”

_Mechanical devices taking life under his clever fingers, experience teaching him how to improve every new invention until each became a new wonder, delicate birds made of cogs and thin wire, graceful felines with shifting joints and swift limbs, quick limbed and springy frogs..._

Slowly, so slowly, the bead slipped deeper inside, the fiery onslaught leaving Tony gasping and delirious, breath burning through his lungs and sweat dripping from his feverish brow.

_And indeed that was the one Virtue he’d already claimed for himself, the one that fit him best, and he’d thrown himself headfirst into perfecting his skills, crafting more and better and more beautiful and more interesting…._

_Challenging himself again and again…._

_And always, always rising to the occasion and exceeding all expectations…._

Yes, that was a Virtue he’d been proud to conquer.

“Good boy, yes you are, my love, and I admire you so.”

The bead was sinking inexorably deeper, pushing the rod, down, _down,_ and just as his rim started closing back over it, relieving his hole of the strain, the first bead _pushed_ against something deep inside of him. 

Tony howled, he saw stars as _that spot_ started sending undiluted ecstasy through his veins, pulsing through his body as rapture crashed over him. The hand around his cock pumped and the bead jammed into that spot, twisting, bringing him higher and _higher_ , wrenching more pleasure from him until he tumbled into a second climax, come spurting from his cock again and mixing with the stains of his previous release. 

Tony sobbed as the high kept consuming him, his breath ragged and rasping, his blissed out mind aching with the pleasure as his God kept stroking him through his disjointed humping, and _still kept stroking_ even when his cock was spent, even when it started aching and pulsing with _too much..._

Tony started blabbering, begging for it to stop, for him to be able to recover in peace, every inch of his skin was crying for respite but the God was relentless, mercilessly pushing him beyond his limits and torturing his poor over-sensitive dick until the skin was throbbing with every beat of his heart, until the limp limb started weakly twitching into the firm hold.

“Shush, shush, my darling, trust me…”

Tony whined pitifully as the bead inside of him started rubbing against the pulsing spot deep inside of him, sending bolts of agonizing pleasure skittering through his veins.

A soft kiss brushed his cheek, the tip of a tongue licking up a tear. The hand against him became excruciatingly tender. Tony weeped, rapture and anguish blending through him until they became indistinguishable from one another. 

“Do you really want to stop, my love?” 

No, no he didn’t.

He didn’t know anymore, everything was too much, too good, too painful and _not enough._ He wanted it to stop, he wanted relief and yet his release was only another form of torture. He wanted more touch but more touch meant more pain, but more pain meant more pleasure, and more pleasure was torture and bliss, and he just didn’t know what he wanted anymore! 

“Please!”  Tony cried out, a desperate appeal to the merciless deity, a long mournful cry that embodied the turmoil of his mind and body. 

The God shook His head, tutting. The long hair caressed Tony’s shoulder with the movement, just a light brush against his too sensitive skin, and it was enough to send his mind in a frenzy, a garbled scream ringing out as Tony tried to bring his trembling limbs in order. The bead was still pushing against this place inside him that made him see stars, the hand was still caressing his burning cock, and _it was too much._

“I need you to speak up, darling. I can’t know what you want unless you tell me. Do you want me to stop?”

Tony inhaled shakily, the cool air burning through his overheated body, clearing his mind enough for him to _think._

“There’s only three beads left, my lovely. You’ve done so well already. There’s no shame in stopping now, you realize this, don’t you?”

Tony clenched his eyes shut, certain of his decision even though he knew it would be difficult…

“Please more!”

The God _crowed,_ surprised and delighted by the choice of his lover. Tony felt the kindlings of warmth and pride in himself at the sound, knowing he’d pleased his God, knowing it was his own actions, his willing choices…

“And what’s the next Virtue, my darling?”

The words were and eager whisper against his skin, jubilation in His voice as He continued nibbling at the bruised skin of his neck. Tony gasped at the painful pangs that melted into bone deep pleasure, a trembling warmth starting to suffuse his limbs as his inflamed cock slowly started reacting to the unforgiving touch.

Loud pants echoed in the expectant the silence before Tony swallowed with difficulty, his dry throat rasping, voice gravelly.

“Perseverance my God.”

“Indeed it is… And are you not proving yourself _very_ perseverant right now?“

The new bead, _the seventh bead_ started pressing against his hole, the movement making the rod nudge the spot deep inside of him that made his whole world white out, leaving behind pulses of blinding pleasure tearing through him.

The bead was much bigger than the previous ones, but each painful push through his abused rim sent more burning ecstasy through his veins from inside, and the hand kept mercilessly teasing his tormented cock. His skin was tingling with the unbearable need brought by the Hell Goo until all his senses were assaulted by conflicting feelings, to the point that he only realized _how far_ the bead had come when his God stopped its course when it had reached the halfway point.

“Come on darling, you know you can do this.”

Could he? 

Tony would boldly claim so, even if he didn’t actually believe it. Though he did want more and he trusted his God to keep him safe, _if not sane_ …

Hissing a breath through his teeth, Tony swallowed again, wetting his parched throat enough to brazenly rasp out his achievements.

“I have both Perseverance and Courage, and I have proved so just now.”

The God hummed in pleased surprise before smiling deviously against his jaw. 

“Indeed, my love, that is a very brave move.”

The sound of the God’s voice was purely predatory in his ear and Tony felt a spike of apprehension twisting into anticipation and pure want course through him, pooling in his belly and turning his blood to molten lava. 

In the God’s hand, his cock started swelling again and Tony whined at the sweet _sweet_ agony. He’d signed up for it, jumped in with both eyes wide open and trepidation giving his arousal an edge of danger that turned everything sweeter, _sharper_. 

His senses attuned with crisp focus on each sound around him, the intermittent birdsong, the shuffle of wind through the branches, the lewd squelch of the bead sliding through his slick passage, the sound of skin brushing over skin, stroking, slipping, the whispers of the God’s hair dragging over his shoulder, the puffs of warm breaths close to his ear, his own pants, loud and desperate,  his heart pounding. 

Tony breathed deeply, deliberately loosening his muscles, submitting to the God’s game, to the bead being slowly swallowed inside of him, burning through his rim. 

The rod pushed ever deeper, invading his insides, forcing his hole to make room for the intrusion. It _seared_ him open and jammed against that rapturous place inside of him, sending wave after wave of bliss and agony through his veins, pulsing down his cock, tearing him apart with the contradicting signals that his body could just not make sense of.

He choked as the rest of the bead sank abruptly inside, pushed down by his poor rim struggling to close against the strain, clinching shut over the last half and pressing it _down, deep, deeper,_ ramming into his spot, ravaging his senses with the intensity sizzling through him, blinding him with the onslaught of sensations….

But the rod kept pushing!

The next bead was already pressing against the puffy inflamed skin of his pucker, pushing against it, sliding over the slick skin, insistently shoving past his limits and piercing through him.

“This is the eighth bead, darling, second to last…”

The low croon of his God was cajoling him as His hand kept on teasing his abused cock, the skin aching and tingling throbbing as he was forced from one orgasm to the next, the ministrations inflicted upon him wrecking him with pleasure. 

“ _Courage_ my love!”

Tony screamed, half in agony as his hole distended to let the eighth bead pass through, wrenching him apart, half at the _gall_ of his God to tease him that way, laughing at his distress as he was.

The bead popped in.

Tony’s eyes bulged out as he felt the beads cramming his insides. His walls burned through the stretch, a constant pulse of harrowing pleasure streaming through him steadily from inside as the first bead crushed the pulsing spot of need deep into him. He felt so full, like there was not enough room to breathe anymore, like any single move would make him shatter to pieces.

He gurgled a whine, exhaustion breaking him apart, limbs abruptly releasing their tension as his mind processed that it was over, it was inside.

There was still one left to go.

Tony forced himself to keep breathing through the maelstrom of feelings coursing through him, driving him _mad_. He attempted to get used to the rod of beads skewering him, the feeling of being crammed full, stuffed up to bursting, the blistering pleasure coursing through him from deep inside, the torturous rapture wrung from his weary cock by his God’s merciless hand, the deep seated burn of his limbs, as the muscles were still stretched, pinned down and held in tight….

Tony kept breathing as the hand kept stroking, slowly but surely teasing his cock into hardness, gently tugging at the beads, pulling at the rim and pushing on his spot, until the unbearable blend of agony and pleasure became an unbearable blend of _need_ and pleasure. 

He wanted more, even though he knew he couldn’t take it, knew his body would protest and he would burn alive, immolated on the pyre of his God’s games, ruined by yet more pleasure with no end in sight, ravaged by yet another climax... and to think he had asked for the right to come, begged for it!

And to think he would still ask for more.

All throughout his meltdown, the God was shushing him down, whispering sweet nothings and praises, a litany of encouragement helping him keep contact with reality and steadying him, soothing his hurt psyche.

Slowly, Tony’s exhausted slump turned into true relaxation as he surrendered to the feelings coursing through him, relishing in the burn, savoring the throbs of pleasure, the feeling of fullness, the pleasant fog clouding his mind, the closeness of his God surrounding him, comfortably crushing his body under His weight, the feel of His breath against his back…

His cock was aching, pulsing with want yet stinging from oversensitivity. 

The God bit down on his shoulder, and Tony cried out, clenching around the beads (too big) pushing into the fist (too tight), twisting around in his bonds as his need kept getting more and more intense (too much), waves of sensations cresting until he found himself once more _almost_ to the brink of his climax, almost on the edge but not quite, not yet (not enough).

Tony was wild, plummeting towards his release, seeking just a bit more _,_ that slight push that would drive him to fall over the edge and give him this blissful relief (until his God drove him mad again).

After a few devious licks, He kept tormenting His Beloved with ruthless pleasure, enjoying the sight of him squirming and desperate, before stilling.

Tony screamed his frustration as everything stopped. The God’s hand stopped stroking, the vines hardening until he could no longer seek the friction he hopelessly needed, and the beads inside him somehow shifted so that no matter how much he clenched on them, he still felt frustratingly unable to find a way to get those delicious bolts of blinding heat through his veins.

Tony sobbed, denied once more, buzzing with need and unfulfilled pleasure, feverishly trying to get more, _more,_ but soon having to resign himself to his fate. He _had_ been the one to put himself at the mercy of such a mercurial crazy _sadistic_ God, after all. 

“There, there, my dear. You can come soon, don’t worry.”

Tony trembled under the warm weight of the God’s chest as a tongue started licking up his tears. He caught the God’s eyes, green, soft and devious all at once, and a fiendish grin flashed across his face before He went back to nibbling the cartilage of his ear, out of sight.

“The last bead is for Discipline, you remember, don’t you?” 

The expectant pause seemed to indicate that an actual answer was required, so Tony let out a vaguely assenting gurgle (and it was already quite the hardship ).

The God seemed pleased, nuzzling his jaw, his cheek, almost purring like a contented cat. 

Lucky bastard. 

_“_ Since I am a merciful god, and I noticed you have some measure of trouble speaking right now, I will have you _proving_ your capacity for discipline here and now, instead of talking about it.”

Mischief entered His voice as He added a few words like an afterthought. 

“Gurgle once for agreement and shake your head for a no. Try not to do both at the same time _too much_ , but I know you’re often in denial about what you want anyway.”

So glad that at least Someone found his misery entertaining.

Just to be contrary, Tony grunted instead, sending a dark look at the God that somehow lost all intimidation power when his eyes clenched shut with a whimper, trembling as rapture crashed over him, the beads pressing down gently as a thumb ran just below the head of his cock.

There was a low dark laugh as the God pumped His hand a couple more times, nudging at the spot deep inside until Tony was shaking, gasping, tensing up as he reached the brink… 

And everything stopped.

_Again._

_“_ I’m waiting for my answer, lover.”

Tony whined. 

The God tutted. 

“This isn’t the code we’ve agreed upon, my dear. I can’t understand you, like that.” 

Like hell He couldn’t. 

“Unless you want to use your words instead?” 

Tony whined in panic before shaking his head. He really didn’t think his brain or mouth would cooperate with him at this point. Everything felt sluggish, the world turning syrupy with the pleasure fogging his senses, yet at the same time too sharp, too intense.

He could barely think let alone articulate.

_Words… no words._

_“_ Very well, my love. Do you wish to hear my suggestion then?”

Tony gurgled. Reluctantly. This was rather embarrassing, and yet he didn’t actually have much choice on the matter: it was that or mulish silence that his God would take as an excuse to torture him some more.

Not that it was such a hardship.

But he did want (need, God, please) to come, and at that point it wasn’t exactly in his hands.

“Discipline, my darling, is a lot about _delayed gratification_. I want you to refrain yourself from climaxing until I give you leave to do it. And if you do not manage to do so, I shall remove the bead and do it again until you succeed. After all, Discipline is something you work for. If you don’t get it right the first time, it’s only fair to give you the chance to try again until you succeed.”

Tony gulped. 

And cursed his God’s sadistic streak.

He didn’t think he could actually survive it if he had to do that more than once, and considering that he had never had much in terms of sexual experience before this day, he really had no clue what to do there, but he did know that he really really didn’t want to fail. And not only because of the sugar coated threat tacked on after the instructions.

Tony wanted to succeed. He wanted to make his God proud, and to prove himself that Discipline wasn’t beyond him… that he _could_ fulfill the Nine Sacred Virtues and not shame his God, that he could be worthy.

And if his God wanted to help him prove himself… Tony just wanted to be good. 

_The Director had always called him a rebel, willfully chaotic, undisciplined. He, and even the other students, Beloveds like-him-and-yet-not kept jeering at him, blaming him, pushing him away for his lack. Discipline meant the ruler snapping—on his desk, on his fingers, and, on one memorable occasion, on his face._

_It meant being locked up, in the dark, alone but for his God’s voice whispering His rage in his ear, and softly comforting him as he felt the walls closing over him, choking him. The magic embracing him in warmth as he cried and panicked and wondered how could his God want a Beloved that was so flawed? Was it because He’d Chosen him before He realized His mistake and now couldn’t take it back? It meant having well meaning, pitying and self righteous Beloveds giving him “advice” and blaming him for the way he was,_

_It meant pain and isolation and feeling inadequate._

_Unworthy._

And now his God wanted to make it something else, something shared between them both.

Something that he could only succeed in because He would not accept his failure. 

Something that was only pleasure and agony and love and torture.

Tony gurgled his assent. 

The God hummed in pleasure 

“Such a good boy, such a brave man. How you please me, my Beloved…”

Tony whined, the sweet words that he lived for warming his heart and pulsing through his cock, making him want, _crave_ the delicious torturous friction of the warm hand still sheathing his cock, more pressure from deep inside him… 

He groaned as the last bead, the biggest of them all, the one he’d been dreading most since the first one, started burning through his rim, forcing its way into him little by little. The pressure, the burn, the stretch felt delicious to his pleasure addled mind, bringing spice and a sharp note to the thick cloying bliss he was drowning in.

He was riding along the wave, swept in the flow of sensations, entirely caught in the moment, _more and more and more_ … His tension was mounting, the pressure of his impending climax building and building some more until he was shaking with it, just a hair’s breadth away from coming… 

“Remember, my sweet, you are not allowed to come until I say so.”

The words struck him and panic flooded his mind as he realized how _close_ he was, and how helpless he felt against the storm ravaging through him, dragging him closer and closer to the edge.

Tony screamed and sobbed, and clenched and tried desperately to stop his body from falling headfirst into his climax, shaking his head in denial of the pulsing need burning through his cock, the way his entire body felt like a raw nerve driven to insanity with burning pleasure and the agony that kept making him _want more._

The hand stopped, his body fairly vibrating with tension, but with nothing more to stimulate him he couldn’t actually reach his high, arousal staying at a standstill. Slowly, slowly Tony relaxed, sobbing in relief that he managed to obey his god, to be good.

He had avoided his release, with his God’s help.

Once he got some of his breath back, Tony gave a questioning whine. He couldn’t understand, why did his God stop? Wasn’t it Tony’s responsibility to control himself and prevent his release? 

Wasn’t it what the God wanted? 

“Oh my poor darling, you are so confused, I can see that. But really, I am not going to ask of you things that you cannot succeed in. You are not alone in this, this is not what this is about.”

The God nuzzled his hair tenderly, pressing a kiss upon his temple.

“You have been so good for me. You realized when you couldn’t take it anymore and asked me to stop. And since I did, you could succeed. But that is a part of being in control, my love. You knew your own limits and acted upon them and within their bonds to reach what you wanted.”

That was… very sensible. And also just about the exact opposite of what had been drilled into his head since people had been trying to twist him into fitting into the mold of what they expected a “Good Beloved” to be. (And before that, a good son).

And Tony started to think that he really could succeed at this, even as his body was torn apart from pleasure and his climax was so close that he was already trembling from it. With his God’s support, he could actually do this.

Some warm pride started filling his lungs as he realized that, for his God, he had already done well, and He would not let him fail (or make him fail). 

Confidence bolstered, when his God asked him softly if he was ready to continue, his answering gurgle was very assertive … 

Right until it turned strangled from the surprise of feeling the bead pushing at his hole, the burn all encompassing as his arousal rekindled with a vengeance. His rim felt puffy and inflamed as it stretched more and more, the muscle growing taut as he reached the limits of what he thought possible for his body…. and yet he realized that he had not even reached the widest part of the sphere and Tony whined at the sharp sting of it.

Trepidation made him shake as he felt his hole yield before the intrusion, the inexorable advance of the too big ball pushing into him, cramming his hole much _too full_ and Tony might trust his God absolutely, but was He really _sure_ that it could actually fit inside him?

Tony whimpered under the strain, the pain actually distracting him from the mounting pressure of his looming orgasm, until a shift in the rod’s angle made the spot inside him blare with blinding heat. 

His breath punched out of him, his cock pulsing with the ache of his coming release, as the bead pushed more and more, spreading him wide over it. 

The experience consumed him until he could think of nothing but the burn outside, the white hot bliss of the hand stroking him, the rod impaling him, the bead jamming into that place that felt like ecstasy. His pleasure mounted more and more, tension endlessly rising until he felt the orgasm nearing more and more and _even more._

Tony gasped out, shaking his head, ruthlessly trying to control his shaking body, because _he must not come._

Mercifully, the God stopped once again, praising him for his control, for his honesty and his dedication, shushing his desperate keens and kissing away his tears.

Tony gulped in a few shaky breaths, letting his body cool down, his arousal settle down a little, getting control over himself just enough to turn the raging inferno into a more manageable bonfire.

Sweat dripped from his brow, running down the bridge of his nose and rolling from his temples. Tony blinked some stray tears away, getting his senses back together and breathing in, then nodded decisively with a gurgle.

He could do this.

With a sweet mischievous kiss, the God started stroking his dick again, slowly, torturously, and the fire in his veins reawakened with a fury. The bead started slipping deeper inside, his rim distended around it, snuggly hugging the slick jade and sliding around the circumference, burning more and more until it finally, _finally_ reached a halfway point. 

Tony panted, choking, breath stolen by the unbearable blend of agony and pleasure twisting him apart until he was about to shatter. 

He was shaking, everything was shaking, it was _too much too big too intense...not enough never enough._

His body was crying out for more, just a little more, just enough to get his relief. He couldn’t take being held on the edge for so long, he needed to fall down one way or another, he needed to _come_ or to come down, he was going crazy, his mind feverish. 

He wasn’t allowed to come. (Not yet.)

And the bead kept sliding deeper, the rod ramming in that place inside him, the pleasure whiting out his mind. He started clenching up, his climax so close. 

Tony screamed and sobbed, twisting away, shaking his head, he wasn’t allowed, he couldn’t, not now, not yet.

The pleasure stopped, the beads, the hand, as he was just so close, (too close) to his high. He couldn’t help but sob at the denial, the frustration of getting so _close_ and yet not being able to fall over the edge… 

Tony licked his dry lips, tasting the salt of tears as he listened to the encouragement of his God, the praise, the pride… He held onto those with all that he was, the courage it gave him, the desire to continue until he succeeded, until he reached the goal his God had fixed for him… 

Perseverance… and Discipline. 

Denying himself an immediate pleasure for a longer term reward was something that he’d always been able to do, sometimes even better than his peers, but only if he saw worth in the reward offered. (And if he trusted the one offering not to cheat him.) 

Fury’s regard had never seemed worth the effort. (And he never reacted well to punishments, or threats for that matter.) 

But for his God’s gentle praise, for his smile, his pride and their pleasure? Yes, he could suffer through the denial. (He could suffer through anything.) 

“Once more, my love?” 

And so Tony agreed again, agreed to put himself through the agony, to suffer at his God’s whims, to be wrecked for his pleasure. 

It was even faster this time, with his rim not needing to stretch so much, the main point past, the width more manageable for the already stretched muscle. The burn was fainter, pleasantly stinging instead of tearing him apart.

Steadily his pleasure rose again, pulsing from inside, singing from his dick, his still tender balls clenched tight to his body as his cock twitched, so close, _too close._

The bead was almost entirely inside of him, filling him up so much Tony didn’t even know if it could fit entirely inside. His passage was burning with the stretch, the first bead got so _deep_ inside, everything was burning up, ricocheting down his limbs, scalding through his nerves, and vibrating through his skin. 

Tony gritted his teeth against the onslaught, breathing through the pain, through the ecstasy, keeping his mind clear as much as he could, keeping track of his body and the mounting tension. 

And the God breathed into his ear a delicious promise. 

“I want you to come _now.”_

Tony screamed and cried as the bead _rammed_ into him for the last inch, forced itself deep, crushing _that spot_ until everything disappeared but the burning rapture echoing through him.  The hand around his dick kept stroking, thumbing just under the head of his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore. His climax crashed over him, sweeping him along as he lost every ounce of control and his cock _pulsed_ , his balls already emptied by the previous orgasms only let a few tired globs of come spurting out. 

His mind was blank, blissed out, entirely detached from everything around him. His body only felt like a distant concern, something he was conscious of but only in the periphery. Everything felt good, in that strange distorted way, half syrupy slow, half giddily clear, a razor sharp focus detached from reality. He felt entirely relaxed, as though everything was fine, or would be, and nothing mattered anymore. He felt _high_ , like that time the village boy who came delivering the milk brought some contraband mushrooms powder and some sweet pear liqueur. His thoughts were buzzing, untethered, unhindered. 

Blissful. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Tony felt himself settling back into his body, remembering himself, where he was, who he was with. There was a warm hand rubbing his back and sweet words whispered into his ear. Slow murmurs of love and affection, of an eternal devotion and pride at his success. 

And Tony felt pride too. After all, hadn’t he proven himself worthy? Hadn’t he shown himself capable of Discipline, even against the odds and opinions of all those simple minded people? Hadn’t he proven himself Virtue by Virtue? Hadn’t his God sung his praises, showing His appreciation for everything that he’d been uncertain about? 

Tony felt removed from those previous judgments and self recriminations. They might come back, he knew, but his God had such faith in him that He would not let them linger for long. 

Slowly, his loose limbs started feeling like his own again, the hands brushing over his body showing him the boundaries of what was him and what wasn’t anymore, and he felt himself capable of thought and maybe even speech again. 

A hand presented a low cup of clear water against his lips and Tony seeped greedily at it. The liquid was cool, fresh and invigorating, helping to bring him back to his senses some more. It was probably magic, the way his parched mouth suddenly felt soothed, the way many of his aches and pains just evaporated and he felt revitalized.

The maelstrom of pleasure that had been relentlessly tormenting him had abated. He was content, and so, so tired, worn down. 

He was glad that it was over.

Wait...

...was it really over? 

Tony hissed as _something_ inside of him tingled unpleasantly, a heavy unyielding weight inside of him that pressed against places that started pulsing with cringe-inducing rawness, a sensation of _toomuchgetawaygetitoutmakeitstopohGod…._

With a dawning horror, Tony realized that _it wasn’t actually over_ , it just couldn’t be, because with as much work as it had been to get the beads inside of him, his throbbing rim, closed snuggly, tightly hugging the thin rod the pearls were strung upon, didn’t seem all that willing to let them out. 

The game he had started with his God wasn’t over just yet, and they hadn’t actually completed their Bond… he still hadn’t given Him what He wanted. 

Tony whined low in his throat. The idea of _more_ torture seemed unbearable, and yet at the same time it made something deep inside him crave and yearn, he _wanted…_

Suddenly the rejuvenating water took a whole new meaning.

Trepidation sending shivers coursing down his spine as his mind spun around the idea of _more_ , and He _had_ spoken about this, hadn’t he? 

His body quaked with need and want and the ache of too much; exhaustion and blissful contentment. 

Letting the game continue was probably a terrible idea… it felt like the best of ideas. 

The touches wandering his body seemed to slowly become more and more intent, from soft caresses to deliberate massage, slowly rubbing in something that Tony had a sneaky suspicion more more of the Hell Goo. It relaxed his muscles and let a pleasant warmth seep down to his bones. The uncomfortable feeling of his skin _crawling_ at the contact of the beads deep inside of him abated until it was only a mild itch, easily bearable… at least until his God decided to play with them some more. 

Tony groaned, pleasure like liquid honey running through him. Not the soul shattering rapture of the orgasms he’d just suffered through, but the sweet delight of basking in his God’s attentions, of being comfortable and cared for, feeling his limbs loose and relaxed, his mind heavy with bliss.

He _knew_ it wouldn’t last, but he would bask in it for as long as it could.

When he was well and truly back to himself, and perfectly pliant under his God’s firm hands, something in the air between them shifted a little. The easy relaxation that they’d shared became weighted, charged with sparks of anticipation, a hint of trepidation and an unspoken agreement that this moment of respite was coming to an end.

Tony hummed low in his throat, sending the signal that he was ready to hear what his God had to say, and He tugged on a lock of his hair in acknowledgment. Tony almost groaned in bliss. 

He _really_ liked when the God played with his hair.

“Do you remember what I promised you, my love?”

Tony hummed, groggy. For the life of him, he couldn’t place what his God was talking about. So many things had happened. He knew, consciously, that it couldn’t have lasted that long, the sun hadn’t even reached midpoint yet, but the experience He’d just put him through could have lasted _days_ for all he could tell. Everything was so intense, thrown in sharp focus, and at the same time running into each others, blends of delights and agony. 

Tony could vaguely remember agreeing to what his God had in store for him, having been showed the beads that were now deep inside him…. But what exactly had he agreed too? 

There was something about speaking his God’s name in order to signal the end of their game… 

_In the Sharing of True Names the Bond is Sealed._

The God chuckled, deeply entertained by his struggle. 

“You seem to be having some trouble, darling… Maybe I can help you?”

Tony groaned in defeat. That sounded like a threat. It definitely was not a friendly helpful suggestion. He just _knew_ there was a caveat somewhere. 

He wasn’t even surprised when the rod inside of him started moving, the God tugging at it until his rim started yielding before the pressure, opening wider and wider as the biggest bead started slipping out. He made a strangled sound as he felt his veins singing with the burn, his mind struggling to compute the sudden harsh treatment when before he had been so comfortably pliant. 

Then the God let it snap back inside, his rim closing gratefully, sending steady shocks of almost delight through him as the first bead _rammed_ inside of him, right on that place that blinded him with pleasure. His brain emptied of anything but the absolute bliss that coursed through him for an instant, before the crawling feeling of _too much_ came back with a vengeance, making him squirm and twist with the desperate need to just get away, get them _away_.

As Tony groaned and gasped, and tried desperately to get his wits back and his body under control, the God started recounting offhandedly everything that he had planned for him, things that he had agreed to.

Tony really really disliked past Tony at this moment. (Past Tony was a genius.)

“Since all this started as a way to show you the value of speaking the truth, truth will be your release, and each lie will be… a torment.” 

Swiftly, the God tugged on the beads, pulling back quickly until his hole stretched more and more and the ninth bead popped out.

Tony howled, fire consuming him, ravaging him with the sudden feeling of the burning stretch then the echoes of the recoil, the abused ring of muscles sending his nerves sizzling with an excruciating blend of pleasure that overwhelmed any ounce of control that he’d actually managed to get back. 

After a few seconds, the feeling settled back to a simmering ache, and Tony sobbed as the aftershocks sent shivers running through his spine, his body still sensitive, his skin still crawling at each intimate stimulation and his spent cock limp and throbbing with the feeling of too much…. 

And his God was shushing him, pressing a warm hand soothingly between his shoulders before pressing the bead steadily back inside of him… Tony whined as his tears kept rolling down the corner of his eyes, this was all too much, too soon, too intense…. 

And while the tired rim was opening more easily before the width after the abuse it had been put through, the skin was still sensitive, raw, and each push deeper nudged at that spot inside… 

Tony was torn between the blinding bolts of need and the ache of being pulled apart too many times, the blistering feel of everything being sore, like an exposed nerve, even after the God’s ministrations….

Tony gasped and choked when the bead actually popped back inside, the last inch abruptly shoved down and slamming into _his spot_. His mind went blank again. 

The torturous pleasure forced upon him kept making him more and more feverish, each brush against his skin sending him into a frenzy. The sudden assault against his backside made him lurch and scream and quake. His arousal was an inferno reawakening inside of him, even as his cock protested the very idea of _more_ , stinging and throbbing at him in echo to the harrowing pleasure twisting through his veins. 

“So my darling, do you still want to play? Or do you have something to tell me?” 

Oh God, he would speak His name, he would, he couldn’t take more of this, it was too much…

“I don’t know that name, my God.” 

Wait what? 

Tony would cursed himself to the fiery pits of Tartarus, except that he had apparently done that already and his God seemed quite eager to oversee his torture. 

A low chuckle reached his ears, as the God appeared highly entertained by his turmoil, and really, Tony shouldn’t be surprised that He found such humor in his distress, the sadist. 

He blinked back tears, clearing his eyes in order to be able to see the God properly, and did his best to actually glare him down. 

This situation definitely warranted a glare.

_Bastard._

He was definitely enjoying this way too much…. but then again so was Tony. 

If he was honest with himself… which he wasn’t. 

Well it was too late to take it back anyway. (No it wasn’t, it was never too late to back out of these things. His God had said “anytime” and meant it. As much as people liked to talk about His being a liar, Tony knew that He was a man of His words and He would always respect his boundaries.)

Or at least he didn’t _want_ to take it back, even if he was convinced that it was a terrible, terrible life choice… But then so was his entire life. 

Anyway, he had cast his die already, spoken one very deliberate lie, and once his God had given him ample time to take it back and call everything off, He accepted the gauntlet thrown like the challenge it was, with a predatory smile that let Tony see many sharp shiny white teeth. 

Tony gulped. He was in a world of trouble, he knew, and he’d even _agreed_ about being there, but it didn’t stop his nervousness or his apprehension. The God had something devious in mind, he could just feel it. 

Or maybe that was the bead shifting inside of him, nudging insistently against _that_ spot. 

Actually, the feelings were perhaps related. 

Tony howled, shaking, twitching as the bead inside of him started moving on its own, buzzing like a beehive inside of him, insistently stimulating _that spot_ until he became a desperate mess. 

The constant waves of feelings, and pleasure, and rapture, and _torment_ crashed through him and made him feel raw and wild. Every inch of that torturous gland was pulsing with acute need and _agony_ that had him twisting and lurching as the feelings kept getting more and more intense.

That place deep inside of him was radiating more and more pleasure, pulsing with intense waves of blinding _need_. He could feel himself go _mad_ with it, the buzzing turning the stimulation into an unbearably worse torment. He felt feverish with it, overwrought with the way it swallowed him whole, made it impossible for him to feel anything but that steady flow of fierce pleasure sweeping through him.

His skin was still raw, resisting even the mere idea of pleasure, and yet it was forced upon him in the most atrocious ways, cruelly wrenching from a newly soothed throat needy cries and screams of anguished pleasure.

And his depleted cock started slowly, achingly, swelling again, against his will, against any manner of sanity, blowing past his body’s limitations, forcing arousal from him just once more. 

Tony couldn’t understand, his body couldn’t make sense of it, his cock was untouched _,_ hanging limp and tired between his suspended legs, and yet it was slowly twitching, throbbing and hardening once more. His feverish mind thought it only an hallucination until the God chuckled and brushed a finger along his length. 

Tony gasped. 

_Yes_ , this was definitely a half mast, that bone deep throb of pleasure, bliss racketeering through his spine in a toe curling _lurch_.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, my love.” 

Tony made a choked moan at the contemplative statement. _Really?_

“Do you remember when I put this little spell on that bead?” 

Tony groaned. This promised to be another of his God’s mind games and he was a tad bit too distracted to play at the moment. 

Because, as a matter of fact, no Tony could not actually remember. 

“You were being sassy, my darling, so very naughty when you were speaking to me.” 

And yeah, knowing himself, Tony could kind of believe that. But surely it didn’t warrant…

“So you invent new sexual tortures for me when I talk back, my God? Are You sure that this is the right incentive to stop me?”

Aaaaaand that wasn’t what he had planned to say, but at this point he was mostly proud that he’d managed such a coherent sentence that actually _mostly_ made sense. 

“Stop you? Why, where would the fun be in that?” 

Tony groaned again, a terrible (delicious) suspicion forming in his mind. 

“You just let me talk more in order to have more reasons to make me squirm.” 

The bastard only laughed at him, apparently delighted with the course of this conversation. 

“And you manage to get yourself in _such_ trouble all on your own, my love!” 

Tony pouted. Fair was fair, he _had_ been the one to start this, and to keep challenging his God to go further and further. (And he might also not actually be entirely upset with his current fate.)

But he had never actually been able to curb his tongue and, really, speaking up, out, and out-of-line was something he was well known for (and reprimanded for as well) _._ It was something that had brought him no end of trouble, but when he had an opinion, he couldn’t just keep it to himself and talk pretty to people he couldn’t stand. No, he always had to tell them exactly what he thought of them. To their face. (People rarely appreciated his honesty. A shame, since Truth was the first Virtue.)

Was his God… blaming him for this? 

This was insecurity speaking, he knew. Nothing in his God’s words even hinted at any kind of displeasure… And yet he couldn’t help but wonder… And worry. 

Because if his God really was upset about his back talk, he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know if he could ever actually manage to stop himself. 

Apparently his apprehension was easily noticed, and a little tug at his hair broke him away from the self recriminations and downward spiral of anxiety. 

“I love you just as you are, Anthony. I would not change you for the world.” 

Tony softened at the sweet words and his restlessness just melted away. There was something absolute about the love of his God, and even as his mind played tricks on him, he knew deep down that what they had wasn’t so fragile. 

The sun rose in the East and set in the West. Water was wet. His God loved him. 

A small smile played on his lips as he looked up at his God, something content and warm that faded quickly as he saw the predatory look in these green eyes. 

Tony gulped. 

“Of course that does not mean that I will not take advantage of every opportunity that you give me to make you dearly regret your impulsive words, but I am quite sure that you enjoy yourself just as much, isn’t that right?”

Well, not that he’d actually admit to it but….

“And now, I am taking advantage of your stubbornness to lie in order to… play some more. After all, you can stop this any time.” 

The buzzing bead started pressing even more insistently in the sensitive spot, making Tony mewl and squirm and jerk in his bonds. An irresistible wave of bliss tore through his body,  staying stuck in his throat in an unspoken scream as he felt his cock _jump._ Its awakening was as blistering as the vibration inside of him, emptying his mind of all thoughts except for the unbearable hum of the bead resonating through his flesh, settling deep into his bones, pulsing with his blood straight to his cock.

“Just tell the truth, my darling. What is my Name?” 

But Tony could read the tone, if barely in this state, and he knew that it wasn’t time yet to end their game. 

“No idea my God, however would I know?”

“Wrong answer, darling.” 

But the fiendish smile on His face told quite another story. (He’d answered exactly right.) 

Really, at this point He truly had no right to complain about his untruthfulness. 

(Except that He did actually. It wasn’t exactly a small innocuous lie he’d told, after all.)

The buzzing increased, intensity ramping up as the bead nudged his spot harshly, making him see stars before the rod started pulling back. 

Tony screamed and whined. The last bead was dragging at his rim, pulling it back until it opened up under the pressure, letting its width slowly sink out of him…. And with a guttural groan, he slumped as the bead just _popped out again._ His rim snapped back closed over the eight beads still inside of him, sending small shocks of delight down his spine, right on the edge between painful and delicious. 

Between his legs, his cock had most certainly started to take interest in what was happening.

God at this rate, he would never actually speak that name… 

_“_ What exactly are You calling a torment, my God? Is that really the worst You can do?” 

There was a beat of silence between them, a kind of amusement from the man beside him that let him know that he’d just put his foot in his mouth in a very, very embarrassing way. One that might just have _consequences_ that his ass would be paying. 

With some trepidation, Tony replayed the words in his head and with growing horror realized _what_ exactly he’d dared the God to do. He’d already been wrecked! He really really couldn’t take more! 

_(_ Even if the feeling of that bead popping out of him and the constant buzzing inside of him was… so _good.)_

Perhaps it would have been best for Tony to stay mute, his mouth really _did_ get him in trouble. 

Tony whined and prayed for strength. Surely he would need it to deal with such a mercurial sadistic being… Especially after throwing that kind of gauntlet.

His God only laughed some more. The prayer was only one more of their games, an inside joke that no other could hope to understand. 

Tony prayed and his God answered. It had always been that way. 

“Ah, but my sweet, what did you think was in that water I gave you? 

Oh _God._

“Strength? Really? Are You sure You didn’t heal my throat just so that I would talk more and dig myself in even deeper?

The impish smile told Tony that, whatever would come out of the God’s mouth next was made just to drive him mad. 

At this rate, his hair would turn white before the day was over. 

“Why of course not, my love. It’s so that you can tell me when to stop while I dig them _out.”_

Tony whined. Yes, the thought had crossed his mind, as difficult pushing them in had been, removing them would probably end him. Nevermind that the ninth was already out, and that he felt mostly rejuvenated. There were _eight of them left_ , including one that was still humming most distractingly inside of him.  

He was going to be absolutely _wrecked_. 

“Unless you have something to tell me?”

“Are You going to ask me that every time?” 

Apparently, the ability to talk was bad for Tony’s health. 

“Should I take this as a no?”

Tony groaned in resignation. His lack of self preservation was clearly in full swing, because it _did_ indeed mean no. 

And, as his God had said, “no” meant more _“torment”._

The God chuckled, delectation in his voice as he whispered in his ear. 

“Well then. Brace yourself, my lovely.”

Tony inhaled through gritted teeth. He had no doubt that the warning was more than warranted. 

Sharp nails dragged down the inside of his thighs, surprising a gasp out of him. The surprise made him twist, his muscles loosening from his clenched up apprehension just long enough for the God to pull on the bead swiftly.  His rim extended with an intense but brief searing sensation, the eight bead sluicing out of him with a wet slurp before just popping out, the ring of muscle clenching around it and _pushing_ it off. 

Tony screamed. 

The sensitive muscle of his rim reverberated the feeling of the recoil, low echoes of bone deep bliss burning through him in steady waves, ripples of pleasure running through his veins and pooling in his slowly hardening dick. 

Loud heavy breaths shook through his chest as Tony came back to his body. The buzzing inside him was even more insistent against his throbbing gland, pulsing in time with his cock. He could feel the pressure mounting, arousal slowly getting back to the uncomfortable point where relief became an imperative. 

“You seem a little uncomfortable, my love. Do you wish for something? Do you have anything to say?”

Of all tones to take, mock concern was probably the most unbearable that he could have tried. 

It served as a good distraction from the way he felt his entire body start to simmer with need, the tension getting steadily higher until he was not quite on the brink but certainly worked up enough for his mind to be clouded with lust. 

However in this state (and with his track record) it was probably best if he refrained from talking. His ass would probably _not_ survive more of his sass. 

Certainly, cussing his God out would not help his case there. 

So it was only a mulish silence that answered the God’s offer of respite, and as before it was taken just as it was meant, like one more challenge. 

“I suppose that means we can keep going?” 

Tony wasn’t quite back to the “gurgle stage” but he wasn’t exactly the most coherent either. 

However he _did_ recognize the dangerous note in his God’s voice and realized that he had seriously miscalculated. 

Because no matter how much He could laugh off insults, He had always disliked being ignored. 

Nothing ever hurt more than silence. 

Tony whimpered an apology, and the soothing hand along his back told him that the God was not truly angry, but that He would not back down from the course He had set. 

With a sigh, Tony slumped in resignation. (It’s not like there was much else that he could actually do about it, after all.)

And so after a warning tug on his hair, the God started pulling the rod _out_ , the seventh bead was tugging on his rim with a deep seated sting before popping out as well, the twang of his rim sending stars sparking through him, intense as lightning, tearing through him and making his back arch sharply, a silent gasp keeping his mouth opened. 

There was no air, nothing beyond the feelings echoing through him, vibrating through his veins as though he was a string that had just been plucked. 

The God was his musician, _playing_ him, tuning him, before performing his magic through him. Tony was only the instrument of his own pleasure, his body the means by which the God inflicted such sweet, sweet torment upon him. 

He could do nothing but yield as the bead was pushed back inside of him, then the next, _then the next._ Nothing but scream and cry and beg and twist in his bonds as the pressure inside of him climbed even higher and higher. 

His now hard cock bumping into his belly, spreading more precum among the mess that was already coating him. 

The world stopped making sense for a while as he was swept through the whirlwind of pleasure and agony. Sharp twangs resonated through his bones and pulsed through his cock as the beads were pulled out again, and then back in, _one then two, then two and one…_

Burn and recoil, strumming and stretching, and pulling and dragging… 

And deep inside, there was still that infernal pulsing, buzzing, _humming_ that pushed against his spot, that rammed into it each time a bead was pushed back inside, and sent white hot bolts of ecstasy through his nerves, turning his brain into a desperate mush.

He _ached,_ feverishly begging for _something_ , for the torment to stop, for being able to breathe, to think, to come, for more please more… 

Everything was so loud, loud groans and panting huffs of breaths, choked gurgles and cut off screams, quiet sobs and low keens… The wet squelch behind him and the soft _pop_ s of the beads slipping in-and-out, _in-and-out..._

He was _so close_ …

“Do you have anything to tell me, my love?”

Tony only half heard the impish words, his mind floating, euphoric, lost in the maelstrom as the feelings coursing through him pulled him apart again and again. It was a blissful kind of agony, and an agonizing kind of bliss. It was nothing he could have ever imagined and he never wanted it to stop but he couldn’t take it anymore!

And yet some part of him remembered, something, a game, a gamble, a dare, and insisted that he couldn’t yield, couldn’t agree, couldn’t, couldn’t, _couldn’t!_

So between gritted teeth, with a foggy mind he grunted a “no”. 

There was a silence he couldn’t read, couldn’t bring himself to care enough to try parsing its meaning, too overwhelmed, frenzied, _distracted_ to even begin to make sense of anything happening around him, 

Serious green eyes came before his face, scrutinizing. There was a peculiar slant to His brows, not quite displeased, nor exactly concerned, more contemplative. 

There was an agreeing hum, a sharp nod. 

“As you wish, my love.” 

Dazedly, Tony felt a warm hand petting his hair soothingly as the beads were pulled out of him, one after the other, his body jerked with each stretch, each pop, each snap back and recoil, pleasure striking him just as vividly as the first, sizzling through him as he let himself fall into the onslaught. 

He lost count of the beads, lost track of the words even as the God’s voice kept him anchored and safe. 

Distantly he could feel vaguely empty, he could feel his hole gaping for a moment longer each time. The stretch kept becoming fainter, until there was only that delicious buzz nestled just inside of him, hugged snuggly by his tired and sensitive rim and sending steady ripples of ecstasy through the tender skin. 

Tony whimpered in agonized bliss, need pulsing through him, his cock hard and bobbing, still leaking precum as he was held, there close to the brink, just a touch from his release, _so close, not enough.._. 

A careful hand stroked through his hair, caressing down the nape of his neck, coursing down his side. The God bent over him and whispered soothingly in his ear, praise and pride, and love pledged eternal. But also… 

“You did well, my Chosen, this is enough, you can let go now. Speak my Name, Anthony, your God asks it of you.” 

And, falling from his lips like a prayer, the name escaped Tony in a single relieved sigh. 

_“...Loki.”_

Inside of his chest, Tony could feel the steady thrum of their bond snapping into place, warm honeyed pleasure bursting through him in an overwhelming wave, sweeping him away with bliss. A hand came to his cock, giving a single stroke as the last bead pulled out of him. The rim stretched taut over the vibrating bead, compounding the pressure of his arousal until his climax crashed through him, a soul-shattering pleasure that encompassed everything, took over his mind and his body and left nothing in its wake. 

The world went white. 

Then black. 

When Tony woke up, he was untied, laying on his back upon a soft warm cloth. He was still in the same clearing, he could feel crushed grass sticking up through the cloth, and hard ground underneath. The sunlight shone down upon his naked form, the birdsong around the clearing a soothing lullaby. 

In his chest the bond linking him to his God hummed, a heartbeat steadily thrumming along his own. 

There were warm hands, his God’s hands, caressing his body, massaging tired muscles. 

He felt good, pleasantly loose and calm. There were no aches left, and he was quite certain that there had been magic involved, because he was certain that he should be quite sore everywhere, and most especially around his asshole, and yet he only felt vaguely tired. 

And he felt better and better each swipe of his God’s hands along his skin.

_Loki._ He could use His name now. 

It had been gifted to him so long ago, and he’d never spoken it, never dared. But now they were bound together, inextricably tied down to their souls and there was no risk for him to abuse it, no way it could be used against them both. 

It was freeing. 

And yet strange. He’d always known his God, spoken to Him in dreams and thoughts, and even though he’d known that Name for most of his life, his God had always been “his God” in his mind. He’d never thought of Him in any different manner. 

And yet he’d never forgotten the Name either. 

_Loki._

It suited Him. 

Tony was floating in bliss, his skin yielding easily under the comfortable pressure of Loki’s hands. This was another kind of ecstasy, one that was pure sweetness and enjoyment, no edge, no pressure, no almost-painful shivery too much, no craving for more. 

Just basking in the comforting touch and the warming presence of his God's - Loki’s presence. 

“Are you back with me, Anthony?”

Tony hummed as he let himself sink into the sensations, his mind felt clear and empty, as though any worry had just evaporated and a strange giddiness had taken its place. He repressed a strong urge to laugh and answered impishly. 

“I don’t know my God, what do You think?”

There was a sharp pinch on the inside of his thigh and Tony gasped at the contrast of stinging pain against the cloying comfort of the afterglow. 

“I finally got you to speak my Name, lover. I don’t plan on letting you call me anything else for quite a long while.” 

Tony almost chuckled at that. His God had never understood his pickiness about his way to address Him, his ever present semi formality, and his insistence to never _ever_ let His Name slip out. 

And yet there was something in Loki’s voice that kept him from doing so, a dark, slightly wounded note. 

The silence between them lasted a few moments too long, and even through the lingering warmth, Tony could feel the air charge with an unspoken tension, some kind of unease that made him frown with worry. 

There was something cold in his chest, where the God’s comforting presence was meant to be. Something vulnerable and hurt. 

He lifted himself upon his forearms and looked upon his God’s face. Halfway hidden by long dark hair, tilted down until He was bathed in shadows, this was a striking contrast from the triumphant embodiment of lust that he’d seen before. 

Both were true nonetheless, he knew. Both were different aspects of his God—of _Loki._

_His Loki_ , damnit. 

But this one , this one he didn’t like seeing on his God. And if he could do something to soothe the pain he saw there, he would not hesitate a single second. 

(He rather wanted to hunt a few heads to present Him on a spike. Sadly he neither knew who were the actual people responsible for this, nor was he actually able to take down a god, as he rather suspected would be needed. Yet.) 

(But he could still do something.) 

“Does it bother You that much?”

Tony could not understand the problem. It wasn’t an insult or even a disrespectful form of address. It was as proper as he could be and he’d been calling Him thus since he first heard His voice. 

When it came, the reply was hesitant, raw, nothing at all like the arrogant bastard that he’d been used to, or the comforting presence of his childhood, or even the mischievous trickster that had been sharing His expertise with him. 

“I am not a well liked God, my love. I am called upon rarely, and never for anything… _good_. This… is not what I want you to associate with me.”

And Tony was only starting to understand the issue. 

Loki had always been affectionate with him, charming, close. A person and not a God. 

_He had never been a well loved God, that was true. He’d been the one called onto as last resort, the one people cursed others with, the one to be wary of._

_And as much as He liked Mischief, it was hardly a respectable domain to lord over, hardly something people looked for, or even admitted to need. (Hypocrites.)_

_No, He wasn’t proud of His status, and He couldn’t understand why His mortal kept calling Him by such a title._

But Loki had it all wrong. 

Tony snorted and shook his head. 

“I don’t see You that way at all.” _You moron. “_ You’ve been the only God I’ve cared for since I heard Your voice, and You are _very much_ associated with everything that is actually _good_ in my life.” 

Rising up the rest of the way until he was actually seated in front of his God, he brought their heads close together until he could peek into shuttered green eyes. He boldly took hold of His face, framing His cheeks and burying his fingertips into silky hair, before tilting His chin up until he could face the imperious look head on. 

Loki had never dealt well with vulnerability. 

“To me, You are a best friend, a confidant, a partner in crime. You are the man I love and my favorite stalker. You are my sun and my moon, the pillar that held me up when I was falling apart, my guide when I was lost. All of that is what makes You my God.”

Tony’s earnest voice lowered until he was breathing the words against His lips, gaze serious and intent. This was important. 

“It is the way You are mine.” 

His eyes bore into his God’s, imparting his sincerity and making certain that Loki _really_ understood. 

He waited until he saw the minute softening on the corner of His eyes, the way tension started slipping away from His frame, he leaned back, letting his hands drop and the solemnity fade from his face. 

When he spoke again, his words were playful, teasing. 

“But if You want me to find another nickname for You, that’s just fine as well ! What do You think about… _‘_ Rock of Ages _’_ , since You rocked my world? It sounds pretty awesome, don’t You think?” 

Loki groaned in mock exasperation, but the impish look was back, tinting His voice with playfulness. 

“You, my darling, are never allowed to name anything, especially if you honestly like such a horrendous name. Where does it even come from? No wait I don’t wish to know. You are definitely _not_ allowed to call me that.” 

Tony laughed at Loki’s mock shivers and theatrical depiction of horror. Then, somewhat tentatively, since having his God actually _there_ and physically present was still so _new_ , he pushed closer and tucked himself into His chest, relishing in the warmth and the contact of bare skin against his own. The God’s arms went around his waist, holding him closer still. With a small satisfied smile, he relaxed into the hold, appreciating the moment and the loose limbed feeling of having been well fu—wait a minute. 

Tony’s hands brushed warm supple leather, thick thighs still encased in pants even after everything! 

He couldn’t believe it. As wrecked as he’d been, with as much pleasure as had been inflicted upon him, _his God hadn’t even bothered to get naked._

As intimate as it had felt, surely, _surely_ it warranted some mutual nakedness? 

And really, even after all this, he couldn’t even claim to have actually been properly shagged? This would not do! 

At that point, strength had mostly returned to his limbs, and outrage gave him the means to just topple Loki over, pinning Him down and hovering above His face. 

He savored the rush of being the one on top, looking down at his God, and the distracting feeling of his God’s hips under his ass as he straddled them, the flattering bulge nestled between his cheeks as he wiggled, getting comfortable.

His gobsmacked expression was absolutely priceless, and distractingly alluring, wide eyes darkening in lust and hair fanning over the grass. His lips were parted tantalizingly, and Tony stole a kiss before he refocused on his goal. 

“Loki, my love, my God, tell me. Did You really hold me to the brink of orgasm for far longer than is comfortable and then made me come more times than I can count without even fucking me once?” 

Loki still looked mostly uncomprehending, staring at him as though he was speaking gibberish, but really his mouth worked perfectly well this time and so did his mind. He was irked, and rightfully so. 

He wasn’t even undressed! 

“Honestly, you weren’t in any state to have more sex, let alone consent to it, darling. Really, it would have been ill advised to go any further. I was worried that I’d gone too far already.”

Tony pouted. He felt _robbed_. 

_But!_ It was an easy fix. 

“Well then You are going to fuck me right now.” 

Loki was absolutely dumbfounded. 

Which, _fair_ , but Tony really couldn’t see why it warranted looking at him as though he’d just grown a second head. It really wasn’t that unreasonable a request. 

“You… want what?”

Apparently it was a request that he would have to spell out though. 

“Your dick. In my asshole. The one You destroyed with my prayer beads. That I will want back at some point. And Your pants off, too.” 

There, simple, concise and to the point. 

Though it was some power trip to be able to look down at his God like that, he was still not surprised when He rolled them over smoothly, letting Tony fall delicately on his back over the cloak. 

Intense green eyes scrutinized his own, peering down to his soul, Tony didn’t know what He was looking for but He seemed to find it because He suddenly started to smile, a dark predatory look into half lidded orbs. 

“Well my darling. Far be it for me to refuse you anything.”

Thrilled anticipation started heating Tony’s blood again, heart beating hard as he lost himself inside hypnotic green pools. 

A hand started stroking his neck softly, and his skin tingled pleasantly at the contact. There was no more of that unpleasant crawling _too much_ feeling, only pleasant comforting warmth and his soul singing, their bond in his chest pulsing with their shared love. 

Loki kissed his lips softly, slowly, sensually, making Tony shiver as his cock started taking interest in the proceedings, arousal starting to swell inside of him. 

And even though he was no longer overwhelmed by the aftershocks of a too close climax, he still felt entirely too responsive, his body attuned to his God’s touches as though they were the only thing that mattered in the world. Each caress sent his skin aflame, each drag of nails went straight to his dick, and soon he felt himself growing hard and squirming under Loki’s frame. 

Slowly, He dragged His lips down, brushing over his cheek and then kissing the spot just under his jaw as His hand reached Tony’s cock, stroking him back into full hardness. 

Tony gasped and started panting at the slow glide. His skin still remembered the relentlessness that had wrenched so many orgasms from his protesting cock, and yet this time it was only a careful climb, the hold satisfyingly firm but almost genteel, letting the pressure rise almost on its own. 

Tony lost track of time in the gentle waves of bliss, the comfortable pleasure tenderly offered. Gasps had started falling from his lips again, almost constant expressions of his pleasure and mounting need, but he could still breathe, and when his groans turned guttural and his limbs started twitching and jerking, he twinned his arms around Loki’s neck and held onto his back. 

When the hand left his crack, he didn’t protest. 

Nimble fingers glided down, giving a quick fondle to his balls, a slow scrape on the thin skin where inner thigh met his groin that made him squirm and cry out, raking _his_ nails along Loki’s back, legs widening to give Him more room and bowing his back. 

Slowly, a fingertip nudged at his sensitive pucker, circling the rim and slipping just inside, nudging the sides. He was still slick and loosened from the intense… play they’d engaged in, the hole easily giving way to the intrusion. 

But not sore. 

There must definitely have been some magic involved there too. 

When a second finger slipped in beside the first and they started sinking slowly deeper, there was no pain, no burning edge, only raw pleasure. He screamed out, slipping a leg over his lover’s hips and clawing at His back, rapture taking over his mind as the fingers nudged at his sweet spot, pressing down, again and again, softly, insistently, until he was back to the edge, just shy of his release once more. 

Tony was shivering in need, in love, in sweet, sweet pleasure. Everything felt soft and slow, caring and careful. It wasn’t exactly the fucking he’d asked for, it was lovemaking. 

It was definitely different from the excruciating ecstasy from before, the exhilarating thrill of being entirely at the God’s mercy, on the tightrope between euphoria and agony. 

And yet there was still his all encompassing trust in his God, the care in His touch, the love they held for each other. There was still Tony’s willingness to rest his fate in His hands, no matter how sadistic or devious He got. No matter how many times he would be denied. 

But he still loved this gentleness, the slow and steady climb to more and more bliss, each time pushing back the threshold of what he could take, slowly nudging back the edge as he took in more and more pleasure. 

It was careful, and sweet, a comfortable bliss and a deeply intimate experience, breathing in Loki’s exhales, feeling His heartbeat against his own, the God’s skin hot as a furnace and growing damp with His own sweat and arousal. Tony could barely hear them against his own panting cries and the wet sound of fingers moving in his passage through the slick goo, but he could feel Loki’s breathing getting heavier, some muffled sounds he could have sworn were groans (or moans, he wasn’t picky) breathed against his neck. 

And against his legs, thankfully, he could feel the bare flesh of his God’s thighs (and if _that_ wasn’t magic, he didn’t know what was.) 

Slowly, the wet fingers pulled out of him, making Tony whine at the strange feeling, empty, cold, but he stayed pliant when Loki hitched his legs over His elbows, bending him in half as something large and blunt nudged at his sloppy hole, slowly pushing against it, through him… 

Tony gasped, the head of His cock was clearly larger than the fingers, and even loosened as he was he could still feel the burn of his rim stretching to accommodate something just on the side of _too big_ , and in contrast to the jade, the cock was _hot_. 

It felt divine, blistering and warm, a slow stretch as he was breached open, the God taking his time to sink into his grudgingly yielding hole. Tony moaned, his back arching as he clung to Loki’s back, the slow breach overwhelming him with the heat, the softness, the _closeness_ between them… 

His mouth opened wide around a silent scream, and he clenched his eyes in bliss, tears slipping out as the intensity kept rising, tension winding him up more and more as Loki started stroking his hard cock again. Tony sobbed out, he felt emotionally wrung out already after his confessions earlier and now _this…_

It felt like their souls were touching each other, melding together as their bodies fused, Loki slipping deeper and deeper into him, leaving no place untouched, making His mark deep inside of him, _claiming_ him as His. 

Tony whined as the bulbous head slipped even deeper, a wider bump sliding inside with a brief twinge. The crawling pace made the rim hug the invading cock snuggly, letting it swallow the head down instead of having it pop in and making it force its way in, and the cock kept its inexorable course deeper and deeper and _deeper._

Tony gasped, breathless, clinging to his lover as he felt himself speared open once more, and yet it felt entirely different. 

He was burning up as the smoldering hot cock blazed through him, overheating him in the best of ways. He felt consumed, his body scorched through with the sensations, and he felt so _full_ , every inch of his insides stretched wide over the thick cock piercing through him, still going impossibly _deeper_. 

Tony was breathless, welcoming the feeling and yet entirely overwhelmed, impaled by the searing hot rod until he could feel it in his lungs, in his throat, and he knew, he knew that it was impossible, and yet the feeling was _so_ intense. 

Tony felt too tight, Loki felt too big, too long, and he relished the feeling, the singeing stretch, the scalding skin against his own, the searing rod inside of him. 

Tony whined, pressing himself even closer, sticky skin and grasping hands, and he just _breathed in_ , a desperate gasp as he unlocked his lungs. 

And Tony melted. 

He started feeling the hand stroking his shaft, thumbing the head, teasing the foreskin, the underside of his glans. The teeth nibbling on his jaw, the hand cradling his head, the fingers carding through his hair. He was entirely surrounded by his God, safe and basking in His embrace, and everything felt wonderful. 

Loki’s hips reached Tony’s, balls pillowed into his ass, cock fully sheathed inside of him. Tony groaned, it felt entirely too much and yet so wonderful. He was mellow, pliant under his God’s hands, letting the blistering pleasure gently consume him, the tenderness heart wrenching and yet so blissful. 

Tony hugged Loki tightly, as the pleasure swept him away and yet his God’s hold kept him present, close and warm. Safe. 

And then Loki started pulling out. Tony whined, clenching up and clawing at His back, trying to keep Him close, keep Him inside, but just as implacable as the invasion was, so too was the withdrawal relentless. 

He sobbed as his insides felt empty and cold, the cock slipping almost all the way out before boring back into him. He was squirming, panting, holding His God close, and gasping small cries into his neck as he was blissfully set ablaze with the cock’s return. Until it was sheathed all the way in once more and then dragged out again. 

The pace was excruciatingly slow, and yet Tony didn’t feel frustrated, he felt ignited by the intensity of the feelings, torn apart and rebuilt with each thrust, slowly, steadily slipping closer to the brink. The tension was mounting, his cock was leaking on the hand stroking him, and he still felt soft, mellow. The arousal was pooling into his body in a delicate simmer, nothing that induced the state of desperation that he’d been reduced to last time. 

The world was syrupy soft as Loki kept thrusting in and out of him, heady pleasure and soothing bliss still rising. The soft bites along his neck worrying at existing bruises, the gentle tugs on his hair, the sweet and gentle strokes along his cock, the slow and unfaltering thrusts of the cock inside of him… Everything was gentle warmth, tender intimacy and heated closeness. 

Tony felt cherished, cradled into Loki’s loving embrace, held close and pleasured so sweetly. He felt precious, as though he was the most important person for his lover. 

At that moment his God was his whole world, from the air that they shared, the heady smell of his lover’s skin and the musk of sex, the comfortable warmth of another body so close to his own, the sound of heavy breathing and low gasps and whispered moans, the weird and wet sounds of sex and penetration, and the arms keeping him safe, reminding him of the boundaries of his own skin because he felt as though he would shatter apart otherwise.  

When his release came, it took him entirely by surprise. It was soft and warm, just one more wave of delight that crashed through him, and he clenched his eyes shut in bliss, a breathy gasp escaping him as he mouthed Loki’s neck, his cock pulsing and a few jets of come getting lost between them, sticking to damp skin. 

Loki kept going. His hips sliding back and forth, hand stroking him through his orgasm until the bliss became blistering, discomfort pulling at his skin. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

The words were breathed against his jaw, just as low and soft as their own muted groans, barely sounding through the muted bubble that they had created around them. 

Tony only shook his head mutely, clinging tighter, tightening his legs around His hips. 

He didn’t want it to stop. He never wanted Him to stop. 

There was something incredible to having his God push through his limits, forcing him beyond his discomfort until his cock hardened again, fucking him through the pain and only leaving more pleasure behind, more bliss. It was _searing_ , forging a connection right down to their souls, and Tony relished that burn, reveled in this communion that shattered him and built him back anew with each thrust, each time he was filled to bursting then left empty. 

His mouth stayed open wide over his increasingly frantic breaths, tension mounting again as his arousal reawakened, cock twitching in the God’s hold, the sweet spot inside of him sending delicious sparks of need up his spine and he basked into the renewed bliss, clawing at his God’s back. 

The rhythm was still slow and intent, tides of pleasure flowing through him, driving him higher and higher still, igniting his veins with delight. He started to feel his dick throbbing with the need of a coming release, the unfaltering push and pull of his God entering him, the continuous slide of the hand around his leaking cock, the warm puffs of air against his neck and the tight hold on his hair… 

His body was tensing, vibrating with need as he got ever closer to the brink, he squirmed, pressed his chest to Loki’s with a desperate whine. 

Loki brought His lips to his temple, pressing a delicate kiss. 

“Come for me, lover.” 

And Tony did. 

His mind drowned under the onslaught of ecstasy, absolute bliss sweeping through him as he lost track of anything but delight and completion. 

The hand stroked his cock through his orgasm, as Loki’s cock rammed inside him one last time, pulsing with His own release, branding him from the inside with His seed.  

Tony gasped, breathless, as he came down, mind slowly clearing from the intoxicating bliss, getting some feeling back into his limbs and unwinding from his lover. 

He was entirely worn out, boneless but sated, fairly rumbling in contentment in his lover’s arms. 

Loki gave him a tender kiss before gently pulling out of him, leaving Tony whining and shivering at the empty, cold feeling, and the strange sensation of seed leaking from his now definitely sloppy hole. 

He still felt soft, mellow and relaxed. He was pliant when the God wiped the seed from his belly, or when he thumbed at his rim to check for any irritation. He didn’t object when He put a small plug inside of him, only gave a tired moan. 

Tony only protested when the God started to pull away, rousing from his blissed out haze to call out, grabbing for Him until He came back, pulling Him down and cuddling close to Him. 

Loki allowed the manhandling and tucked his precious lover close to His side, pressing a soft kiss upon his brow. 

They laid together for a while, enjoying the afterglow, the peacefulness of simply basking into each other’s closeness, their affectionate touches and easy silence. Tony had an ear pressed against Loki’s chest, letting his lover’s heartbeat lull him into a languorous drowsiness. 

This was bliss. 

After a long moment of simply resting together, when their breaths finally deepened and evened out and Tony had recovered enough energy to think clearly, he spoke up, quiet voice breaking through the stillness. 

“What now?” 

Loki hummed, comfortably sleepy, before glancing down at him with a mischievous glint in His eyes. 

“Well, my Chosen, now I whisk you away so that I can watch over you as you recover.”

Tony snorted. 

“As I _recover_? Really? That’s what You’re going for?”

The God tutted. 

“Now, now, don’t go downplaying your accomplishments. That was quite the workout you went through, and a bond like ours is no small thing for a mortal—or a former mortal.” 

Tony made a dubious noise and pouted. 

“Pervert. You just want to put more things in my ass again.”

The God chuckled, highly entertained by the playful banter. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time.”

And that was entirely unfair. 

Tony rose up on his elbows, glaring down at the smug bastard that he’d just bound himself to. For life. 

“That’s because I was completely incoherent, You _ass!”_

Loki only smiled, eyes crinkling as He looked at him softly, tenderly. 

“Are you objecting to me taking you away?” 

Tony pouted at that, because He was completely missing the point!

“Don’t You go putting words in my mouth, I didn’t say that!” 

But really, was there even a point? 

“You certainly seemed eager for more cock,” Loki said.

He had gotten what he wanted, his God had come for him, given him the most thorough fucking he’d probably ever get in his life (though knowing his God, that might not necessarily remain true), and finally completed their Bond. 

“Your pants were still on!”

All in all, this was quite a successful day. 

Loki got a mischievous look in His eyes. “You just don’t want to be caught lying again.” 

And to think, it all started because he’d decided to touch himself! 

Tony put his mouth right next to his God’s ear and whispered mock seductively. “I don’t think my ass can take my lies quite so soon again.”

He would most certainly do it again. It was certain to bring about the most delicious consequences upon his ass. 

“I think you underestimate what your ass can take,” Loki leered over Tony’s giggles.

Meanwhile, he would enjoy teasing his God.  

“I thought You said that I had  eyes bigger than my ass? Really, my love, You should make up Your mind!”

That was bound to be fun. And if he ever wanted to tease, or needed to give his God a push…

“Are you calling me inconsistent?” The God held His heart theatrically, wounded outrage making Tony fall over laughing at the performance.

Well… Tony would _definitely_ have fun with that.

“Well, You know, my God, one out of five…”

 

 

 

 


End file.
